In the Dead Ice
by SapphireMoons
Summary: With the prophecy upon them, the Heavenly Guardian will make his decision. Now revealed to be of another House, Toshiro Hitsugaya's journey to Hogwarts shall finally come to a result, as the Sixth Year dawns.
1. Reckless Summer

AN: SO... LIFE IS ANNOYING and THAT'S WHY THIS IS LATE... but the SEQUEL for Order of the Heavens is here! (I'm so sorry...)

* * *

Chapter 1: Reckless Summer

Draco Malfoy schooled his expression from displaying emotion, the grip on his walking stick white-knuckled as he exited the Ministry with his head high, ignoring the flashing cameras in his visage. In his face upon good or bad, the grey-eyed blonde was raised to uphold his pride as a pureblood first and foremost, therefore, he strode in arrogant aloofness, careful but blank. Apparating with a crack, the pureblood nearly sagged in relief to be away from those vultures that called themselves civilized persons of the press, now at the familiar grounds of Diagon Alley. Many at the trial had questioned the whereabouts of his mother as the sole free Malfoy was just that, but Draco took their questions with stride, playing the role of being calm when the only thing he wanted to do was shout on top of his lungs for the release of his father.

But life was anything but kind to those who were suffering. _Azkaban_.

Expected, but still, the reality of it had Draco reeling as he would have cracked if not for Blaise's curt retort to a particularly uncouth gentleman — remove stocks from there _permanently_ — who stated that it was what he deserved. Perhaps, but it was _still_ his father.

Broken glass cracked under his boots as Malfoy lifted an eyebrow before looking up. _Ollivander's_. The quaint wand shop that was where anyone who was a wizard in Great Britain acquired a wand, was in shambles to say the least. Window frames bare as glass littered the entrance and scorched inner workings of the shop, it was a mess. Shaking his head, the blonde backtracked his steps lightly before taking out an emerald, Port-key to now _his_ manor. Only to find a guest.

"Aunt Bella." He greeted at the many parlors before confusion covered his expression. "What are you doing here?"

"Draco." His aunt smiled, the maniacal glint in her eyes glowing. "You have returned in one piece. I can't say the same for brother-in-law and Cissy, the Dark Lord shall reward you accordingly if you are loyal. Do not fail him and you should be honored."

"Yes, Aunt Bella." Draco replied, unmoving as she ran a hand through his messy blonde hair. "Mother and Father have made mistakes, and I will not do the same."

She smiled widely, hugging him close, her breath at his ear. "The Dark Lord expects nothing less." Satisfied, she let him go, walking further into the manor, a butler following after a nod from Draco. It was not until he could no longer hear her steps that the boy allowed himself to breathe, turning tail to his wing, he had no time to spare. Toshiro was returning soon and that meant that he had to preparations to make.

* * *

 _Ring. Ring. Ring._

Hitsugaya Toushirou stilled from his position over a rack of test tubes, ignoring the sight of a Kurotsuchi and an assisting Nemu overlooking the still specimen that the ice captain had promised his colleague. After improving the Dementor to become both a storage chamber for Pluses and a proxy shinigami for bait situations, the Twelfth Division captain had fulfilled the results that was required of them. Hitsugaya provided the specimens for testing and oversaw the experiments — therefore, writing the reports — while Kurotsuchi did the _actual_ experiments while coordinating with his colleague to speed up the process. The arrangement surprisingly worked well, as the youngest captain was efficient as he was quick, while Kurotsuchi was not as inverse with the wizarding world, therefore, needed the other captain whether he liked him or not.

Having found the Inferius to be immune to his freezing spells with his wand and only attacks with Hyorinmaru in Shikai to be enough to stop the onslaught of corpses, Toshiro was greatly annoyed to find that the reanimated dead were only known to be destroyed by _fire_. So, he gave a snarling test subject — _victim_ — to Kurotsuchi and asked to be informed the swiftest way to obliterate the annoyances other than fire. The scientist was surprised at the request before asking if he was able to break this one, while the younger merely waved as if to say 'as you please' before stating that he had a whole cave of specimens in ice for him to go through.

Needless to say, the scientist was delighted. This one was the sixty-fourth.

Where, the ice captain was currently experimenting all on his own at his personal corner (room) of the Twelfth Division that the division members quickly learned to leave alone, where the incident involved his strawberry-blonde lieutenant paying a visit before knocking over a light blue vial onto a stray Twelfth Division member, who swiftly fell over in a fetal position before mumbling incoherently, eyes wide and shaking uncontrollably. While everyone in the vicinity was thoroughly freaked out other than the two captains and stoic vice captain, Hitsugaya merely mumbled a 'not diluted enough…' before pulling out a turquoise blue syringe from his lab coat, administering it as he informed the subordinate that the images would last a while and that they would stop in about an hour. To this day, the subordinate was too scared to approach the ice captain, thoroughly traumatized because he would curl into a fetal position after the mere mention of his name.

Needless to say, when the white-haired captain was working at his corner, everyone knew better than to interrupt. Not that they could anymore because after that incident, the captain was given one of the larger experimentation lab rooms as his new ' _corner_ ,' none able to enter but him and Kurotsuchi along with Nemu. Pressing a button on his tan bluetooth, the ice captain grunted a greeting.

" ** _Hitsugaya-taicho, this is Seventh Seat, Takezoe Kokichiro, reporting. The Headmaster of Hogwarts would like to see you. He has requested for your company in finding an item._** "

Teal eyes narrowed as he added four drops of a pink liquid into a clear one, black precipitate forming in the tube on the bottom as he dispensed the rest of the dropper. " ** _Where is he currently?_** "

" ** _He has been invited into the palace where Pyrrhus is currently speaking with him, sir. He is adamant upon seeing you before departure._** " Hitsugaya kept his frown still as he poured the contents into a beaker, heating it over a bunsen burner before lidding the crucible, the liquid burning away.

" ** _Inform him that I will not be present until the following two weeks and for him to leave the premises. If not, you may execute force._** " And with that the captain hung up, before slipping on a mask, pouring the black powder into a bag that was labeled — hellebore grounds.

 _You will not see to what the Headmaster wants with your company, Master?_ Sephiroth asked as his master removed his gloves and mask before doing the same with his lab coat, hanging it up as he threw away the other two.

 _No. Whatever it is that is so concerning to him can wait fourteen days until I return to the palace. Matsumoto better be finished with her paperwork._ Replacing his haori over his shinigami robes, the ice captain exited the Twelfth Division to appear over his own, crossing over the filled courtyard of subordinates, training. Paying their looks and bowed greetings with small nods, Hitsugaya entered his office, lifting an eyebrow at the sight that greeted him.

Seated with his lieutenant — _not_ doing her paperwork — was Hinamori, her blue ribboned hair and soft brown locks, not to mention familiar stature was easily recognizable to the ice captain. Immediately, the captain slowed his steps, before eyeing the two of them warily. " ** _Matsumoto, I believe I had left an hour ago with orders for you to do your paperwork._** "

" ** _EH~ But… The paperwork is so hard, taicho~!_** " The strawberry blonde woman whined as Hitsugaya glared at her.

" ** _They are approval forms, Matsumoto. All you need to do is read and then see if you're going to approve it or not._** "

" ** _Exactly~! Reading is bad for my skin, taicho! Do you want me to be ugly?!_** "

Sighing, the ice captain ignored her whining before looking to Hinamori. " ** _Hinamori, what are you doing here?_** "

" ** _I was on the way around to deliver papers when I thought I should visit you and Rangiku-san, Shiro-chan._** " The older sister chirped happily after smiling at the famous antics between Matsumoto and Toshiro, before frowning lightly at the captain. " ** _It has been so long since I've seen you after you went on those year-long missions._** "

" ** _Eight months._** " The ice captain corrected, his expression annoyed. " ** _And I told you, it's Hitsugaya-taicho._** "

Ignoring the quip of his title, the Fifth Division Lieutenant sat up to take her leave. **_"I have to see Hirako-taicho soon for a meeting. I'll visit you another time, Rangiku-san. Shiro-chan._** "

" ** _You…_** " Toshiro swore under his breath, unable to get all of it out before the brown-haired girl had left. Annoyed, he turned to catch his subordinate, tiptoeing her way after his older (adopted, mind _you_ ) sister; before she froze and smiled nervously at his scowl. " ** _Matsumoto. The last time I checked, reading was not bad for your skin. And it is not like drinking sake with Hisagi and Abarai are going to assist in understanding any of it. To your desk. Now._** "

" ** _But taicho~…_** " Hitsugaya merely hardened his glare as his lieutenant slumped in defeat, pouting as she made her way to the desk adjacent to his own. " ** _… Now I'm going to be ugly because of all of this paperwork. And it's all taicho's fault~!_** "

Toshiro huffed at his desk, teal eyes locked on his own pile of paperwork. " ** _Even if that was true, it would hardly do anything to you._** "

The office was silent as Toshiro awaited for the whining retort that was sure to come from Matsumoto, only to have nothing of the sort as he glanced at her to find her gawking. Pale blue eyes wide and a faint blush of rose on her cheeks, the lieutenant let out a small flinch before looking away, stuttering her words as she grinned wolfishly at her captain. " ** _H-Hm~ Are you saying that I'm pretty, Taicho~? I didn't know that you looked at me at that way~_** "

Resisting the roll in his eyes, the tone inflected it well. " ** _I said nothing of the sort, Matsumoto. Paperwork isn't bad for your skin. That paperwork is due by the end of the day and you have a little more then several hours until that deadline. You have no business to be dawdling. Do your paperwork and on time._** " _For_ _once_.

* * *

True to his word, the shinigami captain appeared on his palace grounds without much flair, dressed in a sleeveless ebony tee with matching leather pants wrapped over his legs, decorated with zippers that dangled bronze as his trademark boots scraped the courtyard, hiding his wand. White locks messily done, Hitsugaya had just entered his chambers when Pyrrhus had made his entry. As opposed to what most would have thought, the dragon had adjusted somewhat to his humanoid form, just awakened from sleep. Black hair mussed over the shaven half of his head, the young dragon rubbed annoyed garnet eyes as he glared at the captain, dressed in midnight evening robes.

"You're early, Hitsugaya."

Toshiro rose an eyebrow. "I have returned in fourteen days as I said, Pyrrhus." Adjusting the Time-Turner and locket around his neck, the captain replaced a Transfigured Hyorinmaru to his finger, deciding to hide the gigai as a sole bangled ring on his right hand.

"Not at midnight, the moment it turns to the following day." Pyrrhus grumbled, his robes dragging behind him as he seated himself at the captain's desk. "Wizards and Muggles usually come in the morning or the day to do businesses such as these. Not in the night, too afraid or of the sort."

Hitsugaya hummed noncommittally. "Then am I to assume that the palace and Malfoy's company are no problem to you?"

The dragon shrugged. "Malfoy keeps to himself as do I. He only leaves his chambers to leave for some errands, stay overnight in his manor for a few nights, or for that rare walk on the grounds. He's gone now, left just yesterday and told me he was going to be back in four days."

"And the Headmaster?" Toshiro seated himself across the desk, summoning tea for himself and sake for his guest with Japanese snacks. Pouring himself a cup of the bitter tea, the captain lifted the drink to his lips.

"He left you this, before smiling at me as if he knew something and leaving." And with a hand into his sleeve, the fire dragon revealed a bare letter, the writing easily seen through the thin parchment. "And apparently, no one but you and Dumbledore can read it. I nearly burned him to char after he reached into his bloody robes. Damned wizards, shady bastards."

Ignoring the swearing dragon who downed his cup of alcohol, the captain scanned the letter. "… So that leaves the scoreboard to be, three to three."

"The old coot find a Horcrux, then?"

Toshiro ignored the fact that the dragon spilled as he poured more.

"And he requests my presence to accompany him."

"You did inform him that you did destroy the diadem's Horcrux and show him the locket." The dragon shrugged. "At least he's not taking that Potter boy with him to go splunking for them and you instead."

"Yes, but knowing Dumbledore, that's not too far off." Replacing the letter in his back pocket, the captain ran a hand through his locks as he leaned back against the pillows unlike Pyrrhus, who laid outstretched. "Anything else to add?"

"Other than the occasional news of ' _supernatural_ _events_ ' from Muggles that were really the work of Death Eaters and rumors of the Dark Lord's location, the wizarding world is uneventful. But there is something of interest that you may wish to divert your attention to, Hitsugaya." Pyrrhus lowered his cup. "What do you know of the Deathly Hallows?"

"… I do not." Toshiro replied, teal eyes expectant.

"I expected as much." Pyrrhus nodded, downing his drink. "They are magical objects that have been lost to time, after all. In possession of all three objects of the Deathly Hallows, has the power to be immortal upon the surface — escaping Death as the _Master_ _of_ Death. A wand that is unbeatable, a stone that can bring back loved ones from oblivion and lastly, a cloak that renders the user invisibility even from the eyes of Death. Together, they are the Deathly Hallows."

"So, if this were to come to the ears of Voldemort, he may pursue to become the Master of Death and try to command me to not kill him? Or at least, try to escape me?" Toshiro's words were cold yet toned with obvious incredulity.

"The True Master of Death cannot do that, and compared to you, the Deathly Hallows are not much of a threat." Pyrrhus pointed to Toshiro's wand. "As the Master of the Ivory Wand, you are equal to the true wielder of the Elder Wand as long as you are vigilant. The Cloak of Invisibility is powerful enough for your eyes to overlook but reiatsu reveals them. The Stone of Resurrection brings back shades of the user's loved ones; reflections of the holder's memories — do _not_ apply to you. Even if you are victorious against the Elder Wand, it's allegiance is _not_ to you. The Cloak will _not_ hide you, _nor_ will the Stone show you the dead."

Toshiro waved for him to continue, drinking his tea.

"The reason is that, as a shinigami, god of Death — _you_ are Death. The objects are gifts that you have gifted to each object that was meant to take the lives of those who had forsaken Death's right with magic. Why would a shinigami have the use for seeing the dead, kill enemies of the living or hide from Death when they are already Death?" Pyrrhus pointed out. "What is concerning is that, while they are unusable to you that does not mean that you are resistible to their effects. As gifts of Death, they will recognize you and will perform to their upmost to their tasks. To usher the walkway to their false users' deaths, and find their place with their true master."

"I suppose the risk for myself is at the recognizing aspect?"

The dragon nodded. "You will be revealed for the species that you are. In other words, be revealed to be Death. If you as much as touch any of them, you will be revealed in the form of not your soul form, but the projected image of Death. The Grim Reaper, himself."

Toshiro appeared inquisitive before smirking, quiet.

Raising an eyebrow, the fire dragon appeared within the Inner World of the ice captain, to find the icy landscape the familiar biting cold. Spotting the two elder dragons lounging comfortably by snow dunes in their humanoid forms — they were strangely eyeing their master warily — as the captain gazed into the distance in front of them, the fire dragon neared them. Greeting the dragons with nods, Pyrrhus blinked as he found himself hearing soft chuckles in the blizzard winds, followed by words so soft he could have sworn it was misheard.

"… been years ago… manifested as a Grim Reaper… not since the Black Plague… how amusing…" The fire dragon repressed a shiver as a black pill danced in the captain's thoughts.

* * *

Hitsugaya lounged almost carefree in his private chambers, eyes transfixed with the ceiling as Pyrrhus muttered under his breath with curses, wrapping fresh bandages on the child's right arm, hiding the deep burns. To which was the scene that Malfoy found as he burst in through the doors, ignoring the frowning subordinate behind him as he strode in. The blonde scowled as he studied his friend. Toushirou was conscious, but lazily stared into the ceiling as if the injury to his completely bandaged arm was not as bad as Pyrrhus had made it out to be. But somehow, Draco doubted that. His friend had an interesting disregard for his own well being for most of the time.

"Draco. You have arrived." Toushirou greeted, taking the blonde out of his thoughts as he sighed, seating himself beside Pyrrhus at the pillows, but out of the way, before glaring steely at his cohort on the futon.

"And you are injured. _Again_." Draco stated flatly. "What, on my father's name, did you do this time?"

"A minor miscalculation that may be a blessing in disguise." Toushirou replied vaguely as he sat up, flexing his bound fingers. Draco stared at him, unamused. From the edge of his collarbone to the tips of his fingers, the entire right arm of the ice captain was covered with white bandages, completely covering any flesh from being seen but was loose enough to allow him flexibility and movement of the limb. "The price may eventually be… inconvenient but the profit is enough as that pest is a step closer to death."

"… Do you mean that you've found another Horcrux?" Draco looked at his friend with wide eyes. " _Where?_ "

"I cannot disclose too much, but as far as you are concerned, it has been done and destroyed. But it is a bit disheartening for us to be only short only two more." Pyrrhus snorted at the captain's words as he stood to put away the salve and bandages. Toushirou ignored him as he turned to Draco. "My side businesses aside, what of happenings upon your front, Draco?"

"Daddy issues." Pyrrhus supplied from the other room as Malfoy choked slightly at the comment while Toushirou merely rose a brow. But there was a laughing glint that made Draco give him the stink eye for a moment.

"I do not, you uncivilized pyromaniac. And you, injured or not, I had nearly forgotten that it was straight to business with you, Toushirou." The blonde huffed, before his grey eyes sharpened. "Rumors had been abound that our Headmaster was gone senile, aged beyond defending anyone. Deeming his beloved facility a danger zone that parents are considering to pull their children out of Hogwarts. And it does not help when Aunt Bella and Greyback are murdering incessantly."

"That much is to be expected." Toushirou hummed, half-sitting and lying back as Pyrrhus grunted, seating beside the blonde. "Chaos does have it's own unexpected addiction, doing what is obviously wrong but not minding if the consequences are a bit amusing to anticipate. Not to mention interesting to manipulate."

"A prodigy control freak who is stubborn to a fault and a prejudiced boy with daddy issues." Pyrrhus rested his chin on his fist, looking at the respective boys, one more visibly annoyed than the other. "I have got to start looking for more sane company."

"As if you are one to talk." Draco snapped. "You were the bloke who set my chambers aflame a week ago with your elemental magic going haywire. I had only mentioned my father once to you, hardly proving that I have daddy issues."

"But you do, Draco." The ice captain was unfazed by the glare shot at him.

But before the conversation could continue, an owl made her appearance from the window, ajar as it allowed the night wind to cool the room. As white as her master's hair and nearly as cold, Korihana dropped an envelope before her master, perching herself on an elegant wood cage that was more of an area for the mod-soul rather than a place of captivity. Satisfied to see her food was refilled with strips of meat for her to fish from a plate of blood, the owl cooed at her master before indulging herself. Ripping his letter with a swift tear, the captain gave his audience no attention as he scanned the contents before folding it and throwing it upon his desk, which was moved aside.

"A letter from Hogwarts?" Pyrrhus rose a brow, before downing some sake, summoned by the captain while tea and several snacks were set for himself and coffee for Malfoy.

"Ah. It's the letter for O.W.L.(s)." Draco recognized, sipping the beverage after placing some cream. "I had received my own just yesterday, an equal amount of Outstanding and Exceeds Expectations with a sole Dreadful from that uncouth oaf's class but I think Father will overlook that one."

"I told you, kid." Pyrrhus sniffed at the blonde. "Daddy issues."

Toushirou ignored both of them as Draco shot a blast of wandless magic at the dragon, who deflected it with a lazy wave of his hand, making the jinx ricochet off the wall before going out the window and burning something. The three of them didn't have the capacity to care at the moment as Toushirou decided to intervene in the current mental war of internally stabbing your neighbor.

"I have only Outstanding under my subjects."

"…'Course you do. Brat."

Toushirou jinxed him in the end, to Draco's faithful encouragement.

* * *

Harry neared the Headmaster with reluctant steps, as if unable to believe that he had suddenly appeared before him in a subway station in front of so many Muggles, only to realize that the once busy public was scarce. Now beside him, the boy waited, warm in the London air dressed in a tee shirt under a thin jacket with jeans and laced shoes.

"You've been reckless this summer, Harry." Dumbledore chided without heat.

"I like riding around on trains." Harry insisted. "Takes my mind off things."

The Headmaster hummed low, eyes glazed into his thoughts. "I had intended for Mr. Hitsugaya to join us as well. But due to a thrilling tale, I am afraid that it will just be us this evening, Harry."

The Boy Who Lived felt his expression grow stony, conflicted upon the subject of the young prodigy from Japan. Hitsugaya had saved Harry multiple times along with his friends, _yet_ had lied to them for years that he was actually of Slytherin and not to mention the one who had the destiny to decide whether or not it would be himself or Voldemort who would live. Harry had really no idea what to think. Hitsugaya was not easy to read; cold, intelligent and utterly ruthless upon his decisions against those who opposed his intentions. And it appeared that only the transfer knew what they were.

"Take my arm." Dumbledore's request voiced, taking him from his thoughts.

Harry glanced behind him as the Headmaster waited. "Do as I say."

Not one to be disobeying one of the greatest wizards of all time, Harry obeyed before feeling like he had been squeezed through a series of pipes, stretched and pulled in uncomfortable ways he would rather not explain. Before appearing in the center of an empty town, dark and isolated beside Dumbledore feeling like he was going to puke as the elder wizard appeared almost enviously serene.

"I just Apparated, didn't I?" Harry managed to croak out as Dumbledore nodded.

"Indeed. Quite successfully too, might I add. Most people vomit the first time."

Harry swallowed the urge to follow in that. "I can't imagine why."

Turning, the Headmaster took to a direction without explanation, a blinking Harry following, full of questions but kept them to himself as Dumbledore began to speak. "Welcome to the charming village of Budleigh Babberton. Harry, I assume, right about now, you're wondering why I brought you here. Am I right?"

Stopping before a large home with gates ajar, Harry shrugged. "Actually, sir, after all these years, I just sort of go with it."

Taking in the house the Headmaster had led them in, the most jarring detail was that the door appeared to be kicked open, savagely torn from the hinges to limply lean against its frame, barring anyone who had a rational dose of common sense to walk away. Potted plants hung on feebly as they wilted under the night, debris from the wind covering the house with a layer of age and abandon. Rightly cautious, the Headmaster reached to his sleeve.

"Wands out, Harry." The Boy Who Lived obeyed instantly.

Lumos illuminating their way, Dumbledore took to the lead as Harry took to the rear, entering the house to find it ransacked from top to bottom, the furniture ripped apart and the lights shattered with glass cutting into the once intricate carpet. Following closely behind Dumbledore, Harry repressed the feeling of fear as he gripped his bright wand.

"Horace?" Harry blinked at his Headmaster's whisper. _Who was Horace?_

Other than the occasional patter of cracking glass under their feet, creak of the aged floorboards, and the whisper of Dumbledore's voice, silence was predominantly the sound of the home much to Harry's discomfort as they entered another room that could have served as a living room or parlor. Spotting a copy of the Daily Prophet on the floor, the Boy Who Lived breathed softly before a spot of red splattered upon the papers, chills crawling over his spine when only one liquid was that red and thick.

Looking to the ceiling, Harry found the plaster chipped away to reveal bloodied floorboards that appeared to seep from the high level and drip to the one below. One drop of to which fell on his forehead. Naturally, Harry reached to it only for Dumbledore to do it for him, taking the blood to his lips. Turning away from his student, Dumbledore held a knowing glint as he neared a musty armchair that appeared to almost, not fit with the fancy but broken furniture around it. Poking it, to Harry's surprise, caused a head to pop out.

"Merlin's beard!"

Confused, it was the first time, Harry Potter had met Horace Slughorn.


	2. The Sense of Camaraderie

Chapter 2: The Sense of Camaraderie

Diagon Alley was a lack-luster and darker version of its prime as the three walked down the cobblestone street, having just visited the twins' new joke shop, doing rather successfully after the given prize money from Harry. However, unlike the colorful and laugh-filled store, the other wares and services of Diagon Alley were dark and hung under the weather, paralleling the mad times of the Wizarding World at the moment. The Dark Lord was back, and the Ministry trying to scramble for the remaining bits of order of a crumbling house of cards; _mad_ _times_ , indeed.

Walking to Madame Malkin's for adjustments, the three of them had stepped into the shop to find a waiting Toushirou Hitsugaya and a still Draco Malfoy before a mirror, having his robes adjusted. The former had dressed in an elegant manner, an ebony blazer over a collared white shirt that adorned a drooping ebony bow as an emerald green vest wrapped his mid-section nicely, highlighting the emerald in those teal eyes. Black trousers and knee-length socks that ended in shined boots finished the ensemble as the captain turned to them with a risen eyebrow, his hair messily brushed, framing the teal eyes that seemed to stare into the soul of their viewer. Where Hitsugaya had color upon his person, Draco had none, head to toe covered in varying shades of ebony, opting out for any neck decor as he dressed similarly to the transfer.

The silence was deafening for a moment before it was abruptly broken by Madame Malkin, who had busied herself with Draco's measurements. "Alright then, can you lift your robes for me a moment, dearie?"

"I refuse." Malfoy scowled, glancing at the narrowed look from Harry.

"What's wrong? Too much for the pureblood to degrade himself to?" Harry sneered as Hermione held up a hand, gesturing for him to stop along with Ron. While Hitsugaya watched, looking almost bored.

"You wouldn't know, would you, Potter?" Malfoy shot back coolly. "With a Mudblood for a mother and all, not to mention your track record of company."

Harry reigned in his anger. "I'd rather my friends than to be in the pompous company of you and yours, Malfoy. My friends can actually _think_ for themselves."

"Are you implying that a Mudblood like Granger can _think_ , Potter?" Draco laughed loudly. "Your bloodline has been even more dulled than I thought."

"Shut up, Malfoy!" Harry finally yelled, lunging toward the blonde when his fist was stopped by a strong and gloved hand. Hitsugaya stared at him with cold teal eyes, shoving him off with a push into Ron's arms as he brushed invisible dust off his hands.

"Both of you are acting like imbeciles. You are in a public facility and this is how to act before others?" Toushirou glared at both Draco and Harry like a scolding parent would their child. "Potter, leave Malfoy's business aside, as far as you are concerned; it _isn't_ any of yours. Where, Malfoy, you know better than to be such a child before our peers especially from our opposing House. _Class_ comes with bloodline as you have stated, so at the very least, _act_ like it. Now, apologize to Madame Malkin for your insolent behavior. Otherwise, I will ask Peeves to do as he wishes with both of you for the semester."

The two boys paled at the thought, as the poltergeist, ever since the arrival of the transfer obeyed only two persons: Dumbledore and Hitsugaya. The captain because after Peeves had planned to cover the white-haired transfer with confetti, honey, and cheese in no particular order; the Great Hall was decorated with a very life-like frozen statuette of Peeves. It was not taken down until the following day with Peeves, groveling at the captain's feet at breakfast. Therefore, the two recoiled before favoring to glare at one another as they apologized to Madame Malkin, who waved it aside with an embarrassed laugh; hurriedly finishing up on Draco's robes for one of them to leave.

As Draco made his payments, the transfer ignored all, reading from a small handheld, worn but well-preserved. _**The Tale of the Heike.**_ Hermione translated after a small spell over the kanji. Clearing her throat to have everyone's attention, the bushy-haired girl unsealed her lips. "Hitsugaya… Have you made your decision?"

The transfer looked up, before eyeing Potter. "… Not as of yet."

" _What?_ " Harry whispered sharply, eyes glaring. "Isn't the choice obvious?"

"Not necessarily, Potter." Toshiro replied calmly, closing his book with a bookmark. "Why do you think the prophecy chose for an _outsider_ like me to choose? Think about it. I was not the child who lived through the Killing Curse nor was I the one who issued it, and _yet_ I am the one who chooses which of the two may be spared with their life intact. It is the same reason that those who are not biased in situations are allowed to investigate and allow a verdict; _objectiveness_. My life was not impacted by the actions of the Dark Lord and most certainly not by your survival; I did not know about you since three years ago, while here in England, _everyone_ knows. In the East, our only concern was that diplomatically, our negotiations would be changed, but otherwise… well, we _wouldn't_ have given a damn."

"Then are you implying that there is more to your transfer here than to be an ambassador, Hitsugaya?" Hermione rebutted, while Harry and Ron stared at the transfer stunned.

The captain smiled mysteriously. "Perhaps, Granger. But that is a tale for another time." Spotting the blonde arriving, the albino transfer nodded his leave.

But that was not the last that the trio had seen of the captain, as they found themselves hiding in the tiles of one of the stores in Knockturn Alley, seeing himself and Draco enter Borgin and Burkes. Not daring to use the Extendable Ears after Harry's explanation of Hitsugaya's otherworldly ability to sense something was off, the three prayed that they were not discovered.

Harry gripped his hold on the roof, head out of the line of sight for anyone in the furniture store, struggling to see something. But to his disappointment, after a glimpse of Hitsugaya pointing out something on Malfoy's arm along with a swivel of the transfer's head to their direction, Harry looked up, only to see dirty linen drapes blocked his view.

Harry Potter was sure of one thing. Malfoy could be a… _Death_ _Eater_ …

And so, naturally, he consulted with his friends. (Reconfirmed his thoughts.)

"Harry, do not be absurd." Hermione scolded him in the compartment on the way to Hogwarts, only the three of them present. Ron had taken the seat beside her as the bespectacled male faced both of them with a furrowed brow and an insistent frown at the witch's immediate denial. "Did you forget that Hitsugaya was there as well? I doubt that Hitsugaya of all people will condone the initiation of Draco Malfoy into such ranks, no matter how ruthless the East are."

"What?" Ron blinked as he looked between them as Hermione huffed before explaining for her oblivious friend.

"Harry is under the impression that Draco Malfoy is now a Death Eater."

Ron stared at his best friend. "You're barking. There's no way."

The Boy Who Lived sighed frustratingly, before announcing that he wanted some air and exiting the compartment. Not without grabbing his Invisibility Cloak and a pitch black rock from Weasley's Joke Shop. Because… he was _absolutely_ sure of it. He _knew_ what he saw.

* * *

A reading Hitsugaya Toushirou having taken to the window seat beside a working Draco, with Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini across the open compartment with Goyle and Crabbe on the other side of the train with Millicent Bulstrode and Theodore Nott; the Slytherins of Hogwarts were rather busy unlike the serenely blissful Gryffindors and other Houses as the conversation was started with the most interesting revelation of the year with Millicent Bulstrode the one to voice it.

"Dumbledore lied, and so that's why you were a bloody Gryffindor when you were actually a Slytherin?" Millicent was a built young lady, but somehow managed to fit into a stretched ebony dress and ebony locks down with a simple clip to deter her bangs from falling on her face, featuring a scowl. "You must have been as irked as a gremlin in a desert, Hitsugaya."

"I had no preference of Houses in the first place, Bulstrode." Toushirou shrugged, turning from his gaze from the window, pulling the curtain as he closed his book. "Although the dormitories were too stuffy for my tastes."

"Then you're in luck, mate." Blaise hummed, checking Pansy's king as she cursed under her breath. "We live in the Dungeons of Hogwarts, First-Years always complaining left and right how cold it can get at the night before they have the brains to use magic."

"But in either case, glad to have ya here Hitsugaya." Pansy smiled before scowling at the exit / entrance to their compartment. "Better than to have a Pureblood in their rightful place rather than to be in _that_ House."

Goyle and Crabbe nodded in agreement as Draco smiled his arrogant grin ever-so-slightly to his friend, as if to say I-told-you-that-you-would-fit- _right_ -into-my-condescending-friends.

"Indeed." Theodore Nott nodded, his form thin and lanky as he pushed circular glasses to his mousy brown eyes. "You appear to be better company than Draco in any case. _Finally_ , some intelligent conversation around here."

"Might I remind you of the Hallows' Eve Incident, Nott?"

Nott frowned but said nothing as Toushirou rose a brow at his friend before speaking. "In any case, I will be in your care for the rest of my stay in Hogwarts, at least until the details of the new treaty with your Minister have been put in place."

"Oh yes, Rufus Scrimgeour." Pansy pursed her lips, claiming Blaise's knight.

"The Head of the Auror Office transcending upon the seat as a Minister." Theodore huffed. "The Ministry is getting desperate for control as if that weren't obvious already. _Fools_."

"No one said that our form of government is efficient, Nott." The blonde chuckled in agreement, signing a final form before putting them aside. "The contrary, if you had a pair of eyes really."

"For once, we can agree on something." Theodore sniffed.

Smirking, Draco moved to retrieve his briefcase, placed above their heads when darkness clouded everything in the segment of the train, all blinded by it briefly as a reiatsu neared, one that certainly did not belong in this part of the train as Toushirou waved the blackish powder aside, quickly subsiding just as quickly it had arrived. Grunts and cries of surprise echoed as everyone in the area tried to get their bearings, waving hands in front of their faces before coughing.

Standing in the main walkway, Draco's voice growled in the darkness. "What's that?! Toushirou? Blaise?"

The ice captain shrugged before eyes flickered to the grate that held suitcases while Blaise mumbled a 'I dunno.' Pansy, however, quickly took control as she too stood from her seat. "It's nothing, boys. Probably just a First-Year pulling a prank or something. Come on. We'll be at Hogwarts soon anyway."

Turning, the blonde had no choice but to obey her words as he plopped back on his seat, annoyed. That is until a familiar icy voice said to him, in his mind. _Look up, Draco. Your_ _ **peers**_ _are closer than they appear._

Teal eyes flickered upward, revealing Harry Potter's presence to the blonde. In response, pale pink lips smirked deviously. And several hours later, the same gaze locked on the minuscule splatter of crimson on Draco's exquisitely shined shoes, the white-haired Slytherin fishing out his grey handkerchief, offering it to Draco as he stepped off the train. Surprised to see their company within the train still present and awaiting, the blonde was about to speak when Toushirou cut him off. "Messy work, Draco. If you were intent in doing something of illicit means, at the very least, minimize the chances of getting yourself caught."

Smirking, the blonde dabbed the blood off as he laughed lightly. "My apologies. Did you tell the others of my delay?"

"We have no interest in your delays or agenda, whether or not they involve Potter or not, Malfoy." Nott answered for the captain, shrugging in his grey suit — keeping to the monochrome color scheme of the Slytherins. "Just hurry your arse out of the train so we can get inside already."

Making their way towards the carriages, the conversation continued as they boarded. "So, how bad you get him, Malfoy?" Goyle grinned maliciously, contradicting Nott immediately as the bespectacled male rolled his eyes.

"Enough to make him bleed from what this says." Pansy stated matter-of-factly, burning the soiled cloth after receiving a shrug from the captain to as she wished with it. "Dent his face in?"

"Pretty much." Draco shrugged, not thinking much about it. "Aimed for the glasses but decided against it before my heel smashed his schnoz in. Damage was done."

"That should teach the half-blood to shut up for a bit." Crabbe grunted.

"As long as you lot don't make it troublesome." Blaise quipped.

Toushirou merely hummed at the conversation, eyes off to the distance but clearly listening as the carriage came to a stop before an open set of black-iron gates that speared to the skies. Within stood Professor Flitwick, accompanied by Filch and two other darkly clad men with a mountain of luggage between the professor and the others, all of them dismounting.

"It appears that we have a welcoming committee." Pansy blinked.

And the sole female was correct, if the definition of a welcoming committee was a search of their personal belongings and attendance roll call as they entered their school, going by with no real issues other than the occasional grumble from Crabbe and sneer from Goyle as Filch when he nitpicked on their belongings — until it came to Draco's turn. It was that scene that Harry had walked into, arriving with a broken nose and blood flowing freely with a swaying Luna beside him, not really there.

"It's not a cane, you cretin! It's a walking stick!" Grabbing his property, the blonde spotted his mortal enemy, sneering. "Nice face, Potter."

Responding with a sneer of his own while ignoring the cackles from Goyle and Crabbe while Hitsugaya, Nott, and Blaise looked like they couldn't give less of a damn, Pansy was the one to alleviate the situation. "Enough of this, Filch. This is the last of Draco's things. Can you let us into the Great Hall already?"

"Not yet, girly." Filch leered, pointing to Hitsugaya, then to the mountain of luggage. "You. Which is yours, boy?"

The ice captain snapped his fingers, his trunk appearing before him as Filch moved to unlatch the belts when Hitsugaya's cold voice cut in. "I would not recommend opening it, gatekeeper. Unless you wish to be sent to the Hospital Wing for a time due to a curse, you would allow that privilege for myself only."

Sidestepping, the Squib obeyed as the trunk opened, revealing neat contents for all to see — clothing folded away with several boxes that appeared sealed, and other than a case that contained yellow pills and white syringes ( _medication, the captain explained_ ) — there was nothing out of the ordinary. "Will this suffice for your suspicions, gatekeeper?"

Huffing, the gatekeeper merely grumbled before waving his hand, shooing.

"Then." Toushirou snapped his fingers, his trunk clamping shut before disappearing into his hands, turning to his fellow housemates and ignoring Harry. "To the Great Hall."

* * *

 _It appears that you are the center of attention tonight, Master._ Sephiroth hummed in a deep purr as the announcement for Snape to the year's Defence Against the Dark Arts professor and Horace Slughorn to return his position as Potions Master sunk into the students' attention, their initial whispers and glances at the white-haired transfer's place at the Slytherin table, now a figment of old news. Not that it was something to be downplayed. The reactions between the Houses were the most interesting in the captain's opinion, differing from House from House — Gryffindor, a mixture of annoyance and hindsight bias that the captain never truly was one of them; Ravenclaw, seemingly indifferent as the captain's title as the brightest student of their generation was still a sore spot, regardless of his House, the fact remained that it wasn't Rowena Ravenclaw's; Hufflepuff, sympathetic to the captain's plight from being in the wrong House and was glad that he was in his rightful Sorting; while none was more smug than Slytherin in welcoming their rightful member into their halls, Pureblood and brightest student of them all.

In either case, Toushirou's attention was on his tea. _Bitter._

Unlike the calm and indifferent captain, Draco was silently seething with the rest of his House. _How dare those… idiots… dismiss Toushirou so easily?_ He was their housemate for two years (three) for Merlin's sake and after this sudden revelation, they had dropped him into the House of the Snakes as if he was _defiled_. Because of the coincidental circumstances that a number of Dark Wizards were from Slytherin, all students regardless of how much they wanted to be seen otherwise, they were shunned.

 _Fine._ The House of Slytherin sneered as they turned away from the light that was _obviously_ the other three Houses — never mind all of the Dark Wizards from their Houses, Merlin-forbid. The House of Slytherin protected their own — and with this year, Hitsugaya was one of them.

A soft hiss took Draco from his thoughts as he turned at the sound of the small curse in Japanese. Hitsugaya was nursing his bandaged hand, hidden in the ebony glove, his expression pinched in a mixture of annoyance and discomfort. Draco swiftly scowled before speaking, catching the attention of Nott, Crabbe, Goyle, Blaise and Pansy. "I _told_ you to pour some Essence of Dittany on that before coming. You're not even fully recovered yet."

"Recovered?" Blaise rose a eyebrow beside Toushirou, who waved off Draco's concern. "Recovered from what, exactly?"

"Nothing." Toushirou answered vaguely, stretching his fingers experimentally as he sighed. "A miscalculation of sorts, you can say."

Draco rolled his eyes. "A miscalculation that nearly costed you a bloody arm."

"Details, Draco."

Frowning, the other five exchanged looks between Malfoy, promising to speak of Hitsugaya's blatant disregard for himself later. The tension was soon broken as the chatter of the table consumed their attention, not that the following event to Crabbe accidentally flinging a half-eaten drumstick at Goyle, who caught it in his mouth — only to have a follow-up of mash potatoes to the eye. Before a food fight could break out however, Hitsugaya stated with a deadpan. "Either of you throw the slightest _speck_ of food on my person, I will ensure that you will _never_ wake up ever again."

Needless to say, the fight was finished before it started.

 _I think I like Slytherin_. Toushirou thought to himself as he entered the Slytherin dormitories, in the dungeons of the school below the Black Lake — making them cold and almost desolate. Unpacking his things alone as Draco nodded for him to go have his things sorted first, Hitsugaya took the hint and allowed the Slytherins to their conversation within the Common Room. Seated on his bed in a black tank and nylon shorts, the transfer twirled his wand absently as he conversed with his dragons. _The Common Room is cold and the members of the House know when to be present. Or is that perhaps a bias of an inner Slytherin speaking?_

 _It could be, Master._ Hyorinmaru chuckled. _You_ _ **are**_ _an ice-water wielder and dragons are a branching family of basilisks and serpents alike — so, it would be natural that you would prefer Slytherin over Gryffindor. Not to mention that you have a rather protective number of friends here._

Sephiroth snorted. _Not to say that Gryffindor is a bad House to be in per se. More of not to our tastes._

 _Noted._ Toushirou shrugged dully before moving his necklaces, careful to move the time piece and locket from sight as he laid back on his bed, eyes pointed to the ceiling. Tomorrow was the beginning of classes — N.E.W.T. subjects, once qualified, attendance was not mandatory as long as they attended the examination at the very end of their seventh year. But morbidly, the captain's thoughts did not stretch that far as the teal eyes were lidded, thoughts trailing aside as sleep overtook his mind.

The following morning was as busy as any first day of school would be. First-years scrambling to remember where their classes are and how to get to them while upperclassmen watched the fresh blood in their chaos, amused smiles gracing their expressions at the sight of directionally-challenged eleven-year-olds. Which was exactly what Ron and Harry were doing at their free morning period, while Hermione was in Slughorn's Advanced Potions lecture and after a stern 'suggestion' from McGonagall, the twosome also found that this class was also shared with a few unwelcome faces as well — Hitsugaya, Malfoy, Parkinson, Nott and Blaise. The five were stood to the side, away from the rest of the small class, Toushirou flanked by Draco and Blaise as Parkinson did the same with Draco, as Nott whispered something to the captain, hidden behind the transfer, who nodded at the bespectacled male at his words whatever they were.

Harry narrowed his eyes before said nothing as Slughorn turned to the two of them with a grin. The Boy Who Lived had a task that the Headmaster had entrusted him to do, and it was more important than the words of potential Death Eaters. _At least, for now._

After a brief lecture of the different displays of potions, the students were divided to their own stations to brew the Draught of Living Death for the prize of a small dose of Felix Felicis that lasted roughly twelve hours. Toushirou had no use for a potion of liquid luck but did as instructed anyway as he threw his silver dagger at the escaping Sopophorous Bean on Draco's table with deadly accuracy, his own already bleeding onto his cutting board. Catching the amused chuckle from Draco, the captain resumed his work — adding Valerian roots and annoying intervals of stirring. As time went on within the hour, Hermione grew more and more frazzled as Harry continued with ease in his potion work, much to Toushirou's interest.

 _He crushed the bean instead of cutting it._ Toushirou noted idly, as he stirred seven times counter-clockwise before stirring twice in the opposing direction. _He is diverging from the textbook and taking the advice of something else._

 _Overly studious?_ Sephiroth suggested as Toushirou internally snorted.

 _Potter? Granger, yes. But Potter is hardly one to be studious unless he has to._

And by the end of the hour, Harry's potion was nearly as potent as the captain's.

"Why Mr. Hitsugaya and Mr. Potter! It's perfect!" Slughorn exclaimed, after the leaves died in seconds with contact with the potions. "I dare say a drop from either could kill us all! But unfortunately, I only have one vial of liquid luck to spare."

"It is fine, Professor Slughorn." Toushirou spoke up, running an idle hand to loosen his collar. "Potter may have the prize for his efforts, I have no need for liquid luck. Therefore, if you will excuse me, I have Divination to attend."

"But it would be rude of me to allow good work to go unrewarded, Mr. Hitsugaya!" Slughorn called after the transfer, stopping Hitsugaya at the door with his Slytherin friends behind him. "Allow me to extend an invitation to the Slug Club!"

Draco could not help but smirk behind Hitsugaya's risen eyebrow — an indication that the captain was interested — at Harry's obvious ire, at the ease that his friend had gotten the new Potions Master to _try_ to collect him.


	3. Strongholds

In the Dead Ice:

Chapter 3: Strongholds

The House of Snakes was _misunderstood_ , for the lack of a better term. What did _young_ , powerful yet _impressionable_ purebloods were to do when they were raised to uphold their pride as such; only to find that the rest of the world had a harsh opinion of them? To side with their parents, who _raised_ and _cared_ for them, or to side with the _harsh_ world that _stigmatized_ them as evil because of _one_ — _ **Half-blood**_ , you _cretins_. _**Half-blood.**_ — of their house was bent in a _racial_ _cleansing_. The answer was pretty obvious to anyone with half a brain ( _Hi, Gryffindors_ ). Loyalty to their parents was the _obvious_ choice, even if they were rooting for the mad wizard. They were their _parents_ , _what were they to do?_

It was not like they had _chosen_ to be born to Death Eaters. Not _all_ of us were lucky enough to be born to soon-to-be murdered parents, _okay_?

 _Sure_ , not all Slytherins were purebloods. But that made no difference neither, no? Because, regardless of their bloodline, they were from _that_ house and how can anything _good_ could come from _that_ house? So, even if they were ' _better_ ' than the purebloods, they weren't all _that_ better off. They were still **Slytherin**.

Therefore, as a newly revealed pureblooded Slytherin, Hitsugaya was a bit of an anomaly. His bloodline was obviously prodigious enough, had the looks to back up his background, highest academic rank; yet he was cold and hard to approach, preferring to watch before speaking with the frankness of a well-sharpened blade. He wasn't _arrogant_ like other Slytherins, but he exuded **confidence**. He wasn't _prejudiced_ like other Slytherins, but he was **not** below using it to get a rise of others to do as he wished. He wasn't _condescending_ like other Slytherins, but he was **sharp-tongued** and had the vocabulary to silence the most silver-tongued scum. In other words, he was the Slytherin that embodied the values of their House without the taint of Voldemort.

 _Resourcefulness, cunning, ambition, determination, self-preservation, fraternity and cleverness_ — traits that were what made them Slytherins and not Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaw.

Recklessness without a leash is _death_.

Loyalty without the strength to back it up is _useless_.

Knowledge without the cunning to use it is _worthless_.

The prejudiced _protected_ their own, and Slytherin was no different. Therefore, that night, when Hitsugaya had retired into the dorm, Draco Malfoy met his friends with a cool demeanor. After all, it would do no good to meet your associates by screaming and demanding your opinions, you would be considered biased and less believable. Information was delivered carefully and with deliberation, promises were worded with care and lies interwoven were _meticulously_ knit; _oh, yes_ — Draco played this game well and his friends did as well. _Who else could they practice on?_

Draco seated himself, pale fingers folded on his lap as he allowed himself to relax into his armchair, facing the green fire that burned silver logs in the fireplace. It warmed the Common Room enough — not too warm but warm enough for cold-blooded creatures. He did not need to turn to see that his friends had taken up seats themselves, similarly to him.

It was now only a matter of who was to break the silence.

"This summer was particularly eventful." Pansy began, her voice completely neutral and almost pleasant as she unclipped her jacket, folding it on her lap before she continued. "With the sacking of Fudge, the entrance of Scrimgeour, the rise of He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named and the… _activities_ … of our parents."

Although there was a silence, the air was saturated with an echo of empathy.

"That is putting things _lightly_." Theodore Nott snapped, his annoyance clear as he restrained his tongue. "However, you are correct, Pansy. _Something_ must be done."

"Wrong, Nott." Draco whispered softly, his words lined with authority as he continued before his peer could interject. "The notion is not something _must_ be done. But rather something _will_ be done, with or without our opinions and if we… no, _ourselves_ ; do not decide for _ourselves_ on what to do. You must decide on a side and I, for one, will not condemn you for your choices and I ask the same for you all of mine."

"So, that is why you were so calm." Blaise observed with his volcanic black eyes, appearing poised but intrigued. "You had already chosen a side."

" _Dumbledore?_ " Crabbe and Goyle curled their lips at the mention of the Headmaster, all heads swiveling to a disgusted Millicent. "As much as I respect the House of Malfoy, I will not endanger my House to the likes of _that_ wizard. The Potters were under his protection, and look at the lot of them. Two six feet under and the only heir on his way, from what the previous years of our schooling have been showing. _Protection?_ Do not fluff the situation with that Headmaster, he is no more than a manipulative coot."

"And the Dark Lord is out of the question." Blaise nodded as everyone agreed with Millicent, Draco unaffected as he merely took the words with a grain of salt. A chill ran through the room for a moment. "Our parents are their leverage of us and we are theirs. The Dark Lord has no love for his supporters, only subordination by _fear_."

"So, then what side did you choose, Malfoy?" Crabbe voiced the elephant in the room.

"Neither." Malfoy answered coolly before raising a hand to silence his friends' protests. "I have a chosen one. _Mine_. I want to save my parents, and I do not want to be a tool of the Dark Lord and nor do I wish to be a pawn in the games of our cancerous Headmaster. He is a _great_ wizard, however, I will not have any association with a man keeps his allies in the dark."

"And how do you know that, Malfoy?" Goyle blinked.

Blaise answered with a snort and sneer. "Have you not seen Potter and his goons? The three of them are always scrambling to figure out something going on in our years here and they don't even get the full story of why and how. What makes you think we'll receive any revelations?"

"So, if we choose to our side, if what you imply is what I think it is, Draco; what will we do?" Pansy asked finally, her eyes gleaming with the knowing of their shared status of Pseudo-Death Eaters. "What _can_ we do?"

Flicking out his wand, Draco's grey eyes gleamed with something they hadn't seen in a while. _Hope._ Hope for a better future for all of them, the House of Slytherin _alone_. "Tell me, what do you all plan to do this Winter Break?"

* * *

Inserting his wand into his boot, Hitsugaya returned his gaze across the room, where Granger was frozen in a block of ice. Nonverbal spells were the choice of subject today for Defence Against the Dark Arts and after a scene of Potter receiving a detention after refusing to be a demonstration, Snape had them pair up and practice their hand in the magic. And naturally, everyone outside of Slytherin was at least a _bit_ wary to ask the captain to be their partner. But to their surprise, Hermione was the first.

And having no reason to refuse, the captain merely nodded. Three seconds and a shout to begin later, the captain dodged Hermione's Stun before executing a fluid backflip immediately, knowing she had some idea of his usual methods of retaliation. _So, she has figured out that in close combat, I have the advantage. But no matter._

With a soft crack, the captain Apparated behind her, freezing her before she could even turn. And like that, he won.

Obviously, the reaction to this was less than enthusiastic. Ron immediately ran to the frozen Hermione, expression quickly reddening before turning to the captain. But before he could speak or voice accusations, Harry was already there. "What the bloody hell are you doing, Hitsugaya?! There are other ways for you duel against Hermione than freezing her!"

And with a reflexive move, the Boy Who Lived had his wand pointed at the captain.

In retaliation, Harry found seven pointed back at him: _Slytherin_. And naturally, Gryffindor returned the gesture, making the two Houses segregate with a row of wands and Hermione between them. Malfoy was the angriest, his glare threatening lethal harm. "You touch a _hair_ on Hitsugaya, Potter and it will not only be us that you will have to face."

"What? Your father?" Harry sneered. "The one in Azkaban?"

Snarling halfway before regaining his poise, Malfoy settled for gripping his wand before replying. "Better than _rotting_ in the ground, wouldn't you say, Potter? At least mine has a _chance_ of returning."

" _Enough._ " The command came from two sources, Hitsugaya and Snape, to which the former merely nodded for the latter to continue. He had no authority here, Snape was the professor within this classroom. It was his job to restore order, not his. And order, the professor established. After a reduction of fifty points from Gryffindor for disrupting class collectively and the Slytherins coming off nearly scot-free if not for Snape requesting the eight snakes to remain, Hitsugaya snapped his fingers to free Granger from the ice before remaining behind with his cohorts and housemates.

Toushirou was seated at the middle with Draco, flanked by Nott and Blaise respectively, before being followed by pairs in the form of Crabbe and Goyle by Nott, Millicent and Pansy by Blaise. A formidable picture of young wizard aristocrats, in green and silver uniform robes as they bore intimidating masks well — well, as well as they could before certain members opened their mouths ( _Crabbe. Goyle_.) — but nonetheless, one would think twice before speaking.

Snape took in the sight before he addressed them, eyes on the transfer.

"What do I owe this plot of a meeting? Was posing a request to see me after class too much of a hinderance?" Snape questioned, hand folded before him. "Though I expected better from you all."

"Would you have us asking and making the rest of the Houses spread rumors to try to confirm what is not true, Professor Snape?" Toushirou replied calmly as he rested his face on his gloved palm. "As much as I would love to lead on my former associates, I have no wish to have those three snooping around as they please as Dumbledore allows them. But enough of that. We have other things to discuss."

"Oh?" Snape feigned ignorance before glancing at his company. "And what would that be exactly?"

None of them answered before Pansy reached into her bag, pulling out a leather case that usually held jewelry. Snape felt shivers run up his spine as Hitsugaya began speaking, explaining his dangerous game. _Very_ dangerous game.

* * *

The first Slug Club meeting was interesting to say in the least, as the line-up as assorted from differing Houses. But the divisions in House were still held strongly as the corresponding members sat with those they were most familiar with and therefore, was as divided as they were when they were Sorted. Toushirou was seated with Blaise to his left and the twins, Flora and Hestia Carrow, on his right; while across the table, was the Gryffindors: Ginny, Harry, Hermione, Neville, and lastly, Cormac McLaggen. The captain was not very familiar with his senior by one year, but if the snotty way he spoke of himself was an indication, Toushirou was quickly disinterested. And in an eventual manner, the sole Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were naturally borders between the Slytherins and Gryffindors of the table — Marcus Belby and Melinda Bobbin respectively.

The meeting was held in a dramatic flair, fine food and drink for the exclusive affair — for Slughorn to weed out which of the students would be most influential and build his web of connections. It was eventual that the topic of conversation had turned to the Slytherins.

But seeing how it was the twins, Blaise and Hitsugaya; Slughorn found that conversation with the four was quick, short and to the point. That did not mean he did not try, of course. "Miss Hestia and Flora, how are your parents? I had the great honor of teaching them when they were of your age, you see. Outstanding, the both of them!"

"They are well." One of the twins, Hestia, answered softly.

"Thank you for asking, Professor." Flora finished, her voice just as soft.

If he was put off by the dismissal, Slughorn did not show it. He merely smiled good-naturedly before turning to Blaise. "And your mother, Mr. Zabini, how is she?"

"She is currently in the midst of settling my step-father's settlements." Blaise answered nonchalantly, fixing his ebony suit.

Slughorn blinked. "Still? Hasn't been three years since Mr. Everard perished?"

"Yes." Blaise agreed, before fingering his goblet with a purse of his lips, a glimmer of mirth on his eyes. "She is working on the fourth husband after him, sir."

With the opinions of the other Houses of Blaise's mother was clear, the professor only nodded as if he had suspected as much for a while now before replying. "I wish your mother the best then, through such troubling times."

"Thank you." Blaise nodded dryly, eyes receding to their usual disinterest.

"And what of your family, Mr. Hitsugaya?" It appeared to be his turn now. In response, the ice wielder merely shrugged.

"I have an adopted family, having taken me in when my family was slaughtered at the age of nine." Toushirou ignored the looks pointed at him as he picked up his tea. "They are doing well as far as I was informed two nights' ago. Although, my colleague was a bit careless the other day."

"Your colleague?" Blaise questioned, brow raised.

"Of sorts. The one responsible is an adopted sibling of my father, making him also my uncle." Toushirou replied indifferently, adding some cream to his tea. "He and several others are in recuperation at the moment, nothing too life-threatening." If only Zaraki and his division could truly be that easily said after challenging Kurosaki and Abarai to a free for all…

Blaise snorted. "Your definition of life-threatening is different from the socially accepted one, Hitsugaya."

The ice captain merely shrugged, not denying it nor acknowledging that it was so.

"I hear that you come from an ancient line, Mr. Hitsugaya. It has been so long since I have entered the Eastern lands. Tell me, do you still practice wandless magic there?" Slughorn prodded as the captain indulged him as much as he would allow.

"Yes, and my grandfather wouldn't have allowed me to come here if I wasn't proficient in it. And my linage descends to ancient times, Professor Slughorn, the House of Yamamoto does not care much for bloodline than performance — if one is considered incompetent and unable to do as they are responsible, blood is all but naught. For in the end of the day, we all bleed red and therefore, if you survive, then you are of my lineage. Then if not…" Hitsugaya shrugged, as if to say that the fate of such 'family' members was none of his concern. "… they make good enough compost."

Toushirou heard an internal sigh. _What?_ The captain questioned his eldest dragon.

 _You need to work on your social skills, Master._ Hyorinmaru chuckled with amused exasperation. Sephiroth restrained a laugh as Toushirou rose a brow, slightly confused.

 _I believe I answered the question fully, though._

 _Yes._ Hyorinmaru replied patiently. _But take a look at your cohorts._

Glancing at them, the transfer found Blaise looking at him with a curious glint in his usually disinterested stare with the twins smiling at him with almost amused eyes while the Gryffindors appeared slightly green — McLaggen, most noticeably as he looked like was about to run away — with the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff not to far behind as Slughorn looked at him sympathetic eyes. _They appear fine to me._

 _You never fail to amuse sometimes, Master._ Sephiroth chuckled, not explaining.

It was only when Slughorn made an off-hand comment that most Eastern societies had the same ideologies, that as important bloodline was, performance and honor was top as blood was only that and could only go so far — that the silence resumed to a comfortable atmosphere once more. But nonetheless, the housemates conversed within themselves, keeping to their segregation.

Hours later, in the privacy of the dormitory, Hitsugaya inserted his bluetooth with a soft clip, answering his lieutenant's call as he removed his suit, folding them into the suitcase as he changed into a comfortable yukata, black patterned with light blue snowflakes. With an ornate fin-like ornament on the side of his white hair that clipped his bangs, the captain frowned into the conversation, hands freezing in tying the grey obi properly. " _ **Are you sure that she has requested to speak to me, Matsumoto?**_ "

" _ **Yes, sir. Tia Harribel had expressed to have an audience with you, through the substitute shinigami, Kurosaki Ichigo, in the World of the Living.**_ "

 _What would a former enemy and now, ruler of Hueco Mundo would want in seeing me?_ Hitsugaya pondered briefly as he removed a souma-fixer from his suitcase, administering it with a small wince. _At least, she is aware of proper lanes of diplomacy. If she had requested Hueco Mundo or Soul Society, her request wouldn't have made it this far._

Hitsugaya sighed, destroying the syringe in his hands. " _ **Had she requested anything else, Matsumoto?**_ "

" _ **Only for the Head Captain's permission to have an audience with you, taicho.**_ "

" _ **And his response?**_ "

" _ **He has expressed to await your response before declaring anymore on the subject.**_ "

" _ **I see.**_ " _Then, I will be receiving a call soon. And possibly another Captains' Meeting._ Sighing in resignation, the captain thanked her, before hanging up. Teal eyes troubled before regaining their usual cold disinterest, the captain snapped his fingers, the drapes surrounding his bed receding to reveal his friends with awaiting faces. Rising a brow to his hairline, Toushirou gave Draco a flat look. "If this is revenge for what I told you to do to Umbridge, I will have you know, even with my training, I can _still_ kill you."

"Not if I get there first." Draco replied haughtily, eyes glinted with jest. _Been there, done that._ "So, no. I am not killing you and then resurrecting you to murder you once more. Fortunately, my anger from then had subsided."

"Oh?" Toushirou droned, lips drawing out the syllable as the others extended the room and conjured up beds. _It appears I am having a sleepover. I do not recalling consenting to this invasion._ "Then what of this ambush, Draco?"

 _It could be fun, Master._ Hyorinmaru replied cheekily as Sephiroth chuckled with amusement in the background. Toushirou didn't share the sentiment.

"How vulgar of you, Hitsugaya." Pansy giggled, as she laid back on the bed that she was going to share with Millicent apparently. The girls had the insight to erect a barrier between them and the boys, both in silk blue and black nightgowns. "It is no ambush. I believe, this is what those Muggles called, a _sleepover_. Apparently, this is what friends and potential allies do. It is much better than those parties that Mother dragged me to — dragging enemies into the verge of bankruptcy is only so amusing for so long."

All nodding in agreement as if such an action was commonplace, Millicent removed her ponytail allowing the brown locks to cascade down her back as she huffed. "I know, right? Father is always raving of how superior his company is to the other purebloods when he has had magic on his side for years. Of course, his would be at the top other than the other purebloods. Muggle intimidation is so predictable for the past ten years."

"But in any case," Nott cut in, glaring at Crabbe and Goyle for rolling over to his bed like idiots, kicking them off with a half-hearted jab. "This is no ambush, Hitsugaya. A mere invitation for us to become allies."

Toushirou kept his brow risen, even as Draco smugly laid back on his bed beside his own with an amused Blaise watching the show on his other side, with Nott adjacent. "After you had made yourselves home in my chambers? Was the definition of the word, invitation, lost to you all somehow?"

"Well, you didn't leave much to the imagination when it came to your answer, Toushirou." Draco grinned cheekily, hands cupping his face as he looked up at the captain with messy, damp blonde locks. Like all the others, the blonde was dressed in his night clothes, in an black tee and comfortable shorts; with the other boys in similar clothes. "So, we decided to decide for you. Stretching the word _invitation_ is the least of your concern."

"Permission?" Toushirou inquired with mild defiance as he leaned back onto his bed with a half-hearted glare, his hair clip swinging with his movement. They already knew that he had conceded based on that alone — but was merely being stubborn.

"Granted." Goyle piped up, slugging Crabbe with a pillow as they all ignored the slew of curses from the other muscle-head. "Slughorn gave us permission after your name was mentioned. Repeats are allowed, courtesy of Zabini."

"Repeats?" Hitsugaya echoed as his teal eyes flickered to Blaise as Crabbe and Goyle began to have a pillow fight. "There are going to be multiple invasions of privacy?"

The mocha-skinned boy shrugged, stretching out on his bed in his black night robe. "I was tired of hearing Draco mope about like a love-sick girl over your well-being. Wanted you to be the one to have to deal with them for once. Like one of your fangirls, I swear."

Malfoy blushed a dark scarlet as he swatted at the other pureblood on the shoulder, hissing as Toushirou merely rose an eyebrow at the words. " _Blaise!_ I do not mope like a love-sick puppy! And the whole reason I complain to _you_ and not Toushirou is for him to not know!"

"How flattering for you, Hitsugaya." Nott teased, smirking through his glasses as the girls giggled, ignoring Draco's stuttering protests of not being in such a club of fanatic girls that seemed to include females from all Houses. "That you have Draco in your infinitely growing fan club."

Flashbacks of letters to go to the Yule Ball sent shivers up the captain's spine as he sent a deadpanned look at Nott. "I will not even try to understand such infatuations."

"It is another synonym for love." Pansy winked, her hazel eyes glinting mischievously. "With some tweaked wording here and there, you can even spin the rational to irrational — the crazy to be the sane."

"Nonetheless," Toushirou cut in, snapping his fingers for the lights to dim, Crabbe and Goyle still fighting. "We have class tomorrow. And I for one, do not care —!"

With a poorly-aimed throw, the white pillow smacked the ice captain's face with a resolute poof as everyone stared dumbly at the assaulted captain for a moment, slowly lifting his hand to remove the cushion before turning to Crabbe, the criminal. "Crabbe. Prepare yourself."

And with a bend of his elbow, the pillow flew with a satisfying smack into Crabbe's face, knocking him out of his bed as laughter erupted from everyone — with unison cries of 'PILLOW FIGHT!', the sleepover devolved from an intervention into an all-out war of flying cushions. Finding himself with a small grin on his face, Hitsugaya fell back on his bed as he found himself surrounded by his friends, curled in different positions on their beds — some haphazardly lying in off ways and by their breathing, finally asleep.

 _Have fun?_ Hyorinmaru hummed as Toushirou stubbornly kept his tongue but instead replied in a soft breath.

 _For once. And I suppose the situation called for it to eventually happen._ Toushirou rolled over to his side, the thin covers just over his waist — hands, one free and the other bandaged entirely before him. _With Draco and the others worried for their parents, the rise of Voldemort, the issue with Dumbledore, while playing as pseudo-Death Eaters; one can forget they are merely_ _ **children**_ _. While it is good to be aware that they are_ _ **strong**_ _, they are also only_ _ **so**_ _strong._

 _You are no different, Master._ Sephiroth whispered softly. _You are also just a child._

 _Only when it is convenient._ Toushirou snorted in reply, teal eyes dancing with playfulness before they turned cold once more. _And that convenience is slowly fading._

Removing another souma-fixer, Hitsugaya bit his lip to hold back a wince, as he felt the needle enter his flesh, releasing the needed medication into his bandaged arm — unaware of the grey gaze eyeing the now empty syringe warily.


	4. Small Misconceptions

Chapter 4: Small Misconceptions

Harry Potter was walking away from the Headmaster's office with a small sense of accomplishment, having finished his first day of private lessons with Dumbledore. The Headmaster saw it fit for the young Potter to be first aware of the history of his parents' murderer, beginning the story with the House of Gaunt. It was pitiful for Voldemort's father to have left his mother with an unborn son, but the relationship was fabricated from Love Potions… it was one that could not last, not to mention even _real_ in the first place, no matter how much Merope has infatuated with him.

But… even then, it was his parents' killer — should he have sympathy? Was it _humane_ of him to have it or to not? How can he stop him, if he did? Or was it _because_ he did that he could? Dispelling the thoughts that would only make him run in circles, Harry entered the dorms before pulling out the Marauder's Map, his daily scan over the grounds. Before his eyes were about to close, a small shift on the map made him snap awake.

In curvy handwriting, the small sign said: _Toushirou Hitsugaya_ , the location being the place he had just left. Harry glanced at the clock. It was nearly four in morning.

Watching the set of footsteps pause for a few minutes, Harry observed as they paced the office slowly, like a speaker in the midst of a very important argument before they stopped, and with an abrupt turn of the heel, exited the office.

What in the world could it have been for Hitsugaya to have visited Dumbledore at the dead of night? Or could it be the other way around, that the Headmaster had summoned the captain? But to speak of what?

Harry wracked his brain for answers as he watched the map.

But the answers were as telling as the map could provide. Only telling him that a meeting had occurred and that Hitsugaya had retreated to the dungeons of Slytherin, appearing to be remaining there. Sighing before resolving himself to find out more of the captain's actions, the young man replaced the map under his pillow, turning in for the night. Toushirou, in the Slytherin dorm, however, was doing the exact opposite. Outside of his gigai which was placed in a bag and told to be hidden, Hitsugaya phased through the dormitory the moment he felt the deactivation of the map — it made it no good to have Potter find out about him so soon. Transfiguring Hyorinmaru to his sword form and placing his wand into his sleeve, the young prodigy shunpoed to his meeting place — a Captains' Meeting in the late of night. Glancing down at his snowflake yukata and hair ornament, Toushirou contemplated dressing himself more appropriately before dismissing it. If anything, everyone else would most likely be dressed in the same nightwear due to the short notice of summoning — two hours ago — and correctly to his predictions, they all were clad in PJs.

Like the old man would, Yama-jii was in white robes and purple obi, feet socked as his hands rested over his cane at front-right center of the assembly. And to the corresponding rows, mixtures of colored but obviously silken / satin fabrics of sleepwear clad the captains, some modern, some as old as the society and some just out of usual oddness. Such as make-up free Kurotsuchi; Hitsugaya recalled the first time, it had taken him a moment to realize who the man was until he opened his mouth to berate Zaraki. It was easy from there.

"Hitsugaya-taicho."

Sighing lightly, Hitsugaya bowed as the meeting began, the silver clip in his hair glinting in the moonlight within the cavern. Hours later, the same person exited the shared bathrooms of Slytherin to see the following: Draco standing triumphantly with one foot on Nott's chest, with Crabbe and Goyle in similar fashions — only without a smug Malfoy on them, all four sporting severe bedheads. Blaise was off the side, disinterested in the brawl as he kept his attention on his book, still in bed, as Millicent and Pansy did their make-up, procedures clearly more important than boys.

"We have little more than ten minutes until the Great Hall opens for breakfast. If you do not want to see the rest of the school, I would suggest that you all shower now." Toushirou stated flatly at the boys, ignoring their stances as they all scrambled to the baths with an accompanying curse here and there — Blaise walking behind with his nose still stuck in a book.

"We'll wait for you lot at the Common Room!" Millicent hollered after them, one eye still not outlined, gaze still on the mirror. Pansy didn't even flinch, instead continued to move her mascara wand with mastery. Knowing better than to interrupt females in the midst of their 'therapy', Hitsugaya snapped his fingers for privacy before changing into his Hogwarts uniform in usual fashion — jacket hanging at the shoulders, sleeves rolled up to the elbows and green striped tie loose as pants fitted his frame with polished shoes. Grabbing his bag, the captain was greeted in the Common Room with the sight of his friends; Crabbe fiddling with his socks as he pulled them on, Goyle having the same struggle with his shoes, Malfoy smirking up at him with Blaise beside him on a couch, both prim and proper while the girls took a couch of their own — ready for the day.

And with a united front, the seven of them headed off to the Great Hall, which was empty other than them for the time being.

Intaking dangerous chemicals that included caffeine in the form of black coffee, Hitsugaya had a pleasant morning. As pleasant as it could before Potter had arrived that is. But before that, he was having a simple meal — toast with confections of marmalade jam on top with a hint of butter much to Draco's concern as he pushed a plate of fried eggs toward him. Without even looking, he was denied.

"I prefer light breakfasts, Draco. I believe Goyle and Crabbe are more inclined to heavier options." Toushirou elegantly bit into a piece of toast, lightly buttered.

"And I prefer you alive." The blonde retorted, shoving the plate back. "Eat."

Wrinkling his nose, Toushirou turned away. "I'm fine, Draco."

Unfortunately, Draco was insistent. The other five watched in amusement as the two went back and forth, neither side relenting as Toushirou looked near ready to throw something while Malfoy appeared prepared to shove food down his throat, consequences be damned. That is until Blaise stabbed a fork into the table, making all turn to him. "Just get married already. You both have my blessings to be wed."

Before anyone had even reacted to the words, Blaise grabbed their hands before placing them together, raising his hands above his chest as if blessing them. "You may kiss the bride, Hitsugaya. Parkinson has the rings for you two."

Twenty minutes later, Harry and his friends walked into the Grand Hall with a very interesting sight. Snape stood between a red Hitsugaya with orange glowing hands, standing on the Slytherin table, and an upside-down Blaise, hanging from the ceiling from his wandless magic, not looking particularly perturbed by his situation. Toushirou, in the other hand, appeared almost red in embarrassment as he sounded like he was cursing in Japanese. Malfoy was frozen in his seat, staring into the distance as his expression was complete mortification while, Crabbe and Goyle rolled on the floor, laughing their lungs out. Nott, in the other hand, managed to regain some sort of composure before losing it, laughing like the other two, ignoring the spilt tea in front of him. Pansy and Millicent, lastly, were oddly codling a frozen Malfoy, promising that they would make the prettiest anyone had ever seen on the festive day.

"… What the _bloody_ hell is going on?" Ron whispered, jaw hanging at the chaos as Hitsugaya declared that he was going to murder Zabini slowly.

* * *

Twirling a pen, Toushirou looked up to see the person he was awaiting for. Seating himself, the blonde had the audacity to huff. But then again, it was more mortifying to be considered the female in the relationship. Right after priest Blaise's declaration, Crabbe and Goyle asked if they had to call Malfoy 'Mother' and Toushirou 'Father' now since he was technically their leader and everything. It was then that Hitsugaya had decided his new favorite was Matsumoto because not even her would take such a joke seriously… _maybe_ …

In any case, it resulted in the scene and Snape had let them off with no punishment other than a lecture of teasing friends was not basis for suspending said friends upside down and murder — side-eyeing with the history of Soul Society in mind, the captain begged to differ. But said nothing and nodded that it would not be repeated with witnesses.

Snape knew better than to press for more.

However, the story of the scene was now rumor _galore_ — stewing from Hitsugaya being angered at Zabini disagreeing with Voldemort's beliefs to ludicrous tales of Hitsugaya had finally succumbed to murder — but as long as the real story was kept in the down low, he could careless. What he did care was, his and Draco's knew title. Père and Maman, respectively — father and mother in French, since Millicent insisted it be in the language of love obviously, as what they had was the _purest_ form of love.

Toushirou stared at her as if she had just declared that Hell Butterflies were actually their overlords, ruling by proxy. He was _wrong_. He would admit it. He was clearly in the _wrong_ House.

"It isn't that bad."

Toushirou stared at his fake spouse.

"…Okay. It's that bad. But can you blame them?"

"Are you suggesting that I agree to be married to you and allow them to live?"

"No. — Because we both know they would not survive. — But you did overreact a bit to being married." Malfoy looked almost contemplative. Toushirou was simply done with this _bullshit_. He wanted to go back to Soul Society. _Now_. He ignored the dying laughter and gasps in his Inner World. _Traitors._

"We are _sixteen_ , Draco. The last time I checked, the legal age of adulthood of Japan is eighteen to twenty with similar statements of England. It was a normal reaction to being wed." The blonde had to admit he sounded _reasonable_.

"Not by deciding to murder your friend slowly and hanging them for the ceiling." Which was why it was good to point out a moment in time when he _wasn't_.

"Do you want me to hurt you?" Teal eyes glinted dangerously, hands twirling the pen.

"That's domestic abuse."

"I want a divorce."

"And I want new friends."

"And that is my concern, _how_?"

"I'm hurt."

"Build a bridge and get over it."

"Is that any way to be speaking to your wife?"

"What _wife_?"

"Maman and Père are flirting again, I see." Nott smirked as he entered the dorm, his grin widening at the scowls from the two at his words. "Blaise is on his way back from the Hospital Wing. And please refrain from hurting him, he is still rather useful, you know."

Toushirou huffed but said nothing. Nott glanced at them for a moment before tilting his head ever so slightly — eyebrow furrowed in thought. Malfoy glanced at the bespectacled boy with wary eyes, he didn't like the mischievous glint behind those glasses. "What?"

"If you two are the parents, does that make the rest of us your children?"

In unison, the married duo replied.

"I would sooner _hurl_ myself over a bed of _glass_ than to have you as my child." Malfoy deadpanned with a grave voice at the same time Toushirou said, "I would rather you all go kill yourselves." _Friends, be damned._

To their ire, Nott was undeterred and ran out to tell the rest of their newly adopted progeny. Making Toushirou and Draco suddenly married with two supporting daughters, two idiotically troublesome sons and two cheeky brats that were too invested in their parents' love life. Toushirou glared at Malfoy. "This is _your_ fault."

"It takes two to be married, Toushirou."

"Not if I kill one of us first."

"I like living." Draco took his pen, making his husband scowl.

"Who said I was referring to _you_?" Toushirou took back the pen, after wrestling it from the blonde's grip.

"Please _don't_. I don't want to be a widow so soon." The pen was now on the floor and they… were in a… very _suggestive_ position. Allow your imagination to take you. ***insert jazz hands here***

"Your opinion is irrelevant." Toushirou failed to notice how he was on top of Draco.

"I do not consent to you killing yourself." Draco did too.

"I didn't consent to this marriage but look where we are."

And of course, this was what the others walked into. With a shout of 'I BLOODY _KNEW_ IT! IN YOUR _FACE_ , PANSY! THEY'RE SO _DOMESTIC_ , IT'S—!' from Millicent, who gushed at the sight with heart-shaped eyes, squealing as she ran to find her best friend; while Blaise and Nott merely wolf-whistled — smirking as they promised they would protect their relationship from Toushirou's fan club while Crabbe and Goyle asked them to not _consummate_ their marriage in the dorm. Toushirou turned a dark red with a tick mark over his eyebrow as Malfoy blushed darkly — " _WE'RE NOT MARRIED!_ "

* * *

After the lovely events of the day, Hitsugaya made an effort to not conduct the illegal action of taking lives of his six friends in his classes, glaring at them with contempt. Malfoy simply resigned to his fate as Toushirou eventually did the same with begrudging ire, although it was clear that he was still annoyed by it when Goyle had asked if the two could spare a silver knife and Toushirou had thrown it an _inch_ from his face because he called them by their new nicknames. When Blaise commented that such a thing was child abuse, Toushirou hissed that they were _adopted_ at such an elderly age and therefore, had no say to how they were raised. Malfoy was unsympathetic to his progeny as he ignored the pleading eyes of his idiotic children and told them to screw off — they were interrupting his time with his hubby, Pansy and Millicent stage-whispered to the others.

They shut up after Toushirou threw more knives at them.

But teasing aside, if there was something more interesting than the seven's antics, it would be the reaction of the other three Houses. They watched the interaction of the young snakes with a mixture of awe and shock — as if unable to believe that the _evil_ Slytherins were capable of being human and have friends that teased, pranked and joked at one another. Added to the fact that the brunt of the joke was Toushirou and Malfoy — two intimidating persons of their own right, who did nothing more than threaten with little to no heat (Malfoy more than Hitsugaya, who did follow through in unleashing an army of cats under Nott's bed and sabotaging Blaise's wardrobe and beloved mirror — not that they could prove it). It was almost unsettling to Harry and his friends.

It was easier to desensitize himself. Harry realized. That the Slytherin House was filled with Death Eaters — therefore, clearly _evil_. _Right?_ They _couldn't_ be… _good_ like him and the rest of Gryffindor.

 _And of Peter Pettigrew?_ A voice argued with him. _He was a Gryffindor._

 _Yes, but…_

The voice ignored him. _And Merlin was a Slytherin yet he is one of the most famous wizards of all time._

Shaking his thoughts and the voice away, Harry had other things to be worried over — like his new position as the Gryffindor Quidditch captain. Trials were after classes today, and he had yet to have a temporary roster in mind. Stressed out about it, it did not help to find that at the pitch, many turned up, some even from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, which were turned away quickly as they couldn't even play for Gryffindor. Another thing that did not help was the glaringly obvious group of Slytherins at the stands in the cold eve, all dressed appropriately except one, who wasn't even in a jacket.

He was with the rest of his friends, all watching the activities with mild interest or doing something else — the transfer was reading from a small handheld as Malfoy conversed with Nott beside him, undisturbed until the captain raised a hand to his ear. Ignoring the looks garnered from his company, Hitsugaya answered his call, eyes flat and book set aside, forgotten. Harry, leaving Ginny to watch the trials, narrowed his eyes.

Slipping away, Harry hid under the seats, eavesdropping.

But to his misfortune, the captain spoke Japanese. And of Harry's many talents, Eastern tongues was not one of them — therefore, he waited. The conversation was short and to the point as expected of Hitsugaya, although there was a mild pause in the middle before an affirmation was supplied, continuing. After several moments, the transfer hung up, to which housemates promptly pounced on him, Malfoy, the first.

"Who was that, Toushirou?" Harry would bet his Firebolt that the other Slytherins were also listening in. "If you do not mind me asking, that is."

"My step-uncle." Toushirou replied, the sound of a page turning above Harry's head. "He called to inform me of several developments and… current events that require my personal attention in Japan when I return. But for now, my subordinate appears to have everything under control."

"I see. When you speak of developments, are you referring to… by any chance, that?"

"It is one of them." The transfer confirmed. "But not until the weekend by my estimates — which is coincidentally enough, on time."

"Are you sure it is not the result of your manipulation again?"

"While I am flattered to hear that you believe I have such skill, it is not."

Harry heard a snort, and from the source, it appeared to be Blaise. "I believe that you are one of those I would rather not be involved in when it comes to manipulation, Hitsugaya."

"Whatever gave you that idea?" Nott's voice drawled, dripping with sarcasm. "Père is not one to be crossed after all."

"Stop calling me that." Toushirou scowled.

"But it's fitting." Crabbe said, as Harry could feel the glare Toushirou shot at him. "But it is!"

"I don't care." Was the snappy retort. Harry glanced at the pitch, noting that some of the volunteers were turning their heads, looking for something. Him, rather.

"I think it's cute!" A girl's voice smiled oblivious to the captain's distain. "After what happened this morning, you cannot deny that it suits you both!"

"I refuse to acknowledge such blasphemous dribble." Malfoy replied flatly.

"It is not blasphemous!" She cried back shrilly, as a smack sounded, followed by a grumble. "It is the greatest weapon to all who can see it and I will sooner swear my allegiance to Dumbledore before you lot try to suggest otherwise!" _Weapon! What weapon is so strong? Something that Voldemort is setting out to obtain?_ Ice ran down Harry's spine as he continued to listen, ignoring the worried looking Ginny.

"And I would rather murder someone before we as much as have such a thing. The cost is heavy, Millicent." Malfoy retorted, his words lined with desperation for the girl to see the clear logic.

" _Nonsense!_ " Millicent declared passionately. "Cost is no issue if it is kept under wraps. We are in Hogwarts, after all. Who would _dare_?" _I would._ Harry hissed mentally at the girl's cocky tone. _There was no way in hell he was going to let these…_ _ **Slytherins**_ _, to destroy the best school he had ever been to. It was his home._

"Everyone else." Nott pointed out. "Even though Hitsugaya and Draco are of noble blood, respective heirs to their estates — that does not exempt them from the public opinion. And that is even more unpredictable than those idiotic Gryffindors." Harry held back the urge to punch something, glancing at the pitch.

"Not if we change the public opinion." Blaise pointed out as Harry took it as his cue to leave — Ginny was turning red. Gripping his gloved fists, Harry glared behind him as he glanced at the stands. _They were plotting to destroy his home. And he would be dead before he would just let them do as they pleased to it._

* * *

There was another gathering of the Slug Club, this time with the invitation of the following: Flora and Hestia Carrow, Blaise, Toushirou, and Nott for Slytherin; the Gryffindors consisting of Ginny, Harry, Hermione, and McLaggen — Neville having been dropped. — and Melinda Bobbin. The only Hufflepuff was not given another invitation, but he was not the only one absent as Harry was unable to attend either as he had to serve a detention with Snape. Uncaring, Hitsugaya twirled his flute of aged pomegranate juice — he knew that Potter had overheard the Slytherins' conversation and clearly misunderstood what the context of it was but if the suspicions of a teenage boy was his greatest concern, he wouldn't have been here. Instead, he was more inclined to _watch_ — to oversee this living Horcrux. Urahara had called him to inform him that he had the method for Harry to be free of the soul fragment which was good in planning as the choice appeared to impeding in the soon future.

But for some reason, Toushirou felt a ghost of hesitance.

 _Is this child, deserving of mercy, a second life out of Voldemort's influence? One that was so foolish? If not for his friends, the boy would have been dead many times over._

Toushirou humored the thought idly. Death was objective, and he was supposed to be no different. His manifestation in this country was the Grim Reaper, after all. His Japanese features would be replaced by a grinning skull with empty sockets, Hyorinmaru a curved scythe that reaped souls. Humans saw what they wanted to, after all. God of death or not, he usually opted out of such gruesome appearances, most souls were Pluses anyway — death was often ugly and deprecating. It was sober enough to die, they did not need the sight of a human skeleton to reinforce it — explaining their human-like appearance.

But it was still a choice. Teal eyes twinkled in the candlelight.

"Mr. Hitsugaya?"

Toushirou turned, his gloved hold over his champagne flute undisturbed as he noted Blaise and Nott were a bit off ways, having a conversation with the twins. "Professor Slughorn, good evening."

"Good evening." Slughorn smiled back in a wide grin. "Has the evening been to your satisfaction? I do try by best to make them accommodating to all members of my club!"

"But of course." Toushirou replied with polite air. "I assume your adjustment back to Hogwarts has been going well."

"Yes, yes." The Potions Master nodded. "I hear you too, took some time away from Hogwarts. A year?"

Toushirou nodded, sipping his flute sparingly. "It was by my Grandfather's request. He was concerned, for the lack of a better term. However, last year, he had a sudden change of heart, for I had discovered something of interest in my first year of Hogwarts. Something a former student had left behind."

Slughorn kept his composure, the ice captain gave him that much. "What a peculiar thing for your grandfather to change his mind over."

"Indeed." Toushirou hummed, pink lips kissing the rim as he sipped the dark red liquid. "Grandfather wanted me to refer his greetings to you and your return to Hogwarts. He expects the best from you in educating me of this side of the magical world — not to say that Professor Snape is inadequate, of course."

"Please, convey the same sentiments to him for me." Slughorn smiled sincerely, as if relived at the subject change. "It must be difficult to keep track of all your family. I have heard that the Yamamoto line is rather powerful, filled with many capable members in under their wing."

"Anything less does not breathe, Professor." Hitsugaya hummed, eyes on his flute as if to note how little he had left. "It just so happens seven of our own allies have been… _absent_ , if you will. All _seven_ of them… seemingly have _fragmented_ off."

Toushirou did not even flinch at Slughorn's violent jerk at the mention of the number.

It was all the confirmation he needed, after all.

"I-Is that so?"

Toushirou hummed in answer, nodding as he swirled his drink before downing it. "If you would excuse me, Professor. But I have several matters to attend to tonight. Thank you for your invitation to such a gathering."

Taking his leave, the ice captain murmured to Blaise and Nott of his departure when he arrived at their small table, bidding the twins a good night. Slughorn ordered his heart to calm as sweat beaded his forehead — there was no way Hitsugaya could know — eyes following the white-haired student. No one knew, he made sure of it. However, as Hitsugaya was leaving the office, the Japanese transfer had loosened his collar, to reveal a golden locket. One that he had not seen since Tom Marvolo Riddle was his student.


	5. Novelties of Company

Chapter 5: Novelties of Company

Thanks to the outburst from Toushirou and Draco yesterday, the rest of the Slytherin house had conjectured that the heir to the Yamamoto and Malfoy House was betrothed — only in usual societal expectations, not to each other. Blaise and Nott said nothing when questioned as Goyle and Crabbe merely shrugged, saying that their leader's personal life was none of their concern ( _Ha._ ) while Millicent and Pansy would giggle like lovey-dovey sweethearts when the two were mentioned in the same sentence. Similar to every rumor, it did not take long for them to spread throughout the Houses — leaving everyone to question, who were the lucky _girls_ that stole Malfoy's and Hitsugaya's heart?

"I got a letter for you, Hitsugaya." Blaise said that morning in Divination, the Friday before they were allowed to go to Hogsmeade. The six others turned to the mocha-skinned boy with interest, beside Nott in a table in front of Toushirou and Malfoy — the others littered in pairs surrounding them. "But I took the liberty of reading it before you."

Toushirou rose an eyebrow, eyeing the envelope in his hands. "Why?"

"Screening and filtering." Nott replied as he held seven others. "It appears that your fan girls are becoming more… _assertive_. Laced love potions, spells to infatuate, and even near-fatal jinxes to be the maiden-in-arms to save you; you are such a high profile target, Père."

"None of you will cease at that title, will you?" Toushirou scowled, annoyed as he got cheeky grins and shaking heads for his trouble. "And as for the letters, I have never opened any of them anyway. It is a common enough tactic for me to be aware of."

"So, you knew." Nott muttered, incinerating the letters in his hands after receiving a nod. "For how long?"

Toushirou thought for a moment, twirling his ring. "Since the Yule Ball. It was then that I had received invitations to be a part of the celebration, but I was preoccupied with a conflict in Japan."

"What sort of conflict?" Crabbe asked, curious. But then again, anything was more interesting than what Trelawney was lecturing.

"A sortie of my subordinates." Toushirou answered, cupping his face in an open-palm. "Usually, they are sufficient enough to resolve such conflicts on their own and do not need me to command over them for every move. But my aunt and colleague requested my presence — and while I was there, I made sure they were enough to resolve it."

"You're sugarcoating again." Malfoy retorted beside the captain as teal eyes rolled at his accusing glare with a lazy look. "I know your definition of 'conflict' is slaughtering the other side and 'making sure' that your men were 'enough' is you watching hidden with them unawares as they are fighting for their lives."

Toushirou shrugged. "Dying is a part of life. I accept it and my men are no different. If you cannot survive a small skirmish, then you cannot survive a larger and more life-threatening one. I have no use for anyone who cannot lie their life down for our cause."

"Cutthroat as usual." Pansy huffed as Toushirou shrugged. "Are you like this even to Draco when you were training him?"

"I was merciful." Toushirou replied the same time Malfoy said, "I nearly died."

"As expected." Millicent nodded with the wisdom of Dumbledore, looking at Pansy with the relevance of a deity, clasping her hands over her bosom. "Père is not easy, even towards Maman. They are so perfect of an OTP, I can die _happily_ now. The Dark Lord be _damned_."

" _No_." Pansy gripped her friend's hand with just as much conviction, green eyes steely. " _Wedding_."

Whirling to them with such speed, Toushirou could have sworn she shunpoed, Millicent's hands slammed on his and Draco's table — black eyes narrowed and lips pulled to a purse before she nodded, hissing in a breath. "You are right, Pansy, darling. The wedding is needed before anything else. We _must_ and will see this."

"There is not going to be a wedding." Malfoy groaned as Toushirou counted to ten mentally — _I'm invited too, right? Of course, Pyrrhus; we all will celebrate the festivities together. There is not going to be anything, much less, a wedding!_ — Toushirou was ignored. "Or anything of the sort."

"I'm surrounded by deluded people." Toushirou growled, glaring at Malfoy as if he was the spawn of his troubles. _Oh, wait. He was._ It was his friends, after all. Fit right in, Toushirou did. He just didn't expect it to be as the group's _father_.

 _It's not so bad, Master._ Hyorinmaru laughed deeply, thoroughly amused. _Sephiroth and I think it's rather nice. To have friends at school and be able to be teased by them for a change — is this not what the educational experience is about?_

 _I'm a century-year-old male stuck in a child's body. How about no?_ Toushirou grumbled, teal eyes cross. _And to be married._

 _Do not tell me it is the fact that it is a male that you are betrothed to is the trouble._ Pyrrhus' voice sounded, deceptively neutral. Toushirou could hear the 'I knew you two would tie the knot someday' smugness in his voice. _Love is without bounds, Hitsugaya._

 _Please_ _. Love is the last thing on my mind. I am technically dead._ Toushirou argued back as he twirled his ring absently, ending the internal conversation as he turned to his company. "Our _nonexistent_ marital affairs aside, who is going to Hogsmeade tomorrow?"

A chorus of agreements came from everyone but Nott and Malfoy, the former having preferred the quiet corners of the library and the latter due to an unserved detention from McGonagall. Nodding, Toushirou glanced at Malfoy briefly — similar, calculating eyes reflected back at him as he returned his attention to his book. Tomorrow, Hogwarts will be in an uproar once more.

* * *

Harry blinked at the Headmaster of Hogwarts and most respected wizard of all time, having just finished witnessing Dumbledore's first meeting with Lord Voldemort, who had been sent to an orphanage after Merope Gaunt had died in childbirth, leaving a locket of Salazar Slytherin — his rightful heirloom — pawned off. At the orphanage, Voldemort had already developed his powers, prompting the professor's visit.

"You're the doctor, aren't you?" The handsome, youthful child that was Tom Riddle said — venomous green eyes, watching.

"No." The younger Headmaster replied. "I am a professor."

"I don't believe you." Tom replied flatly. Harry had to agree, he wouldn't have neither. "She wants me looked at. They think I'm _different_."

"Well perhaps they are right." Dumbledore replied, not condescending but rather toned with statement.

"I'm not _mad_." Tom clarified.

"Hogwarts is not a place for mad people." Dumbledore iterated patiently. "Hogwarts is a _school_. A school of magic."

Tom stared, clearly not believing the man before him.

"You can do things, can't you, Tom?" Given no reply, the professor continued. "Things other children can't do."

"I can make things move without touching them. I can make animals do what I want without training them. I can make bad things happen to people who are mean to me. I can make them _hurt_. If I want." Harry mirrored his professor, eyeing the child that was to be the Dark Lord. "Who are you?"

"Well, I am like you, Tom." Dumbledore confessed. "I'm _different_."

"Prove it."

Lifting his face from the Pensieve, Harry believed himself done for the day when he had witnessed Tom Riddle ask Dumbledore on his way out if speaking to snakes was a normal talent of wizards. After all, it was jarring enough to see that the murderer of his parents was once… _human_ , a student, person like him. Orphaned and so similar to him if he had been placed in the orphanages of Britain. But the Headmaster stopped him and poured another vial in the dish, hand waved for him to proceed.

Dipping his head into the waters once more, Harry found himself in a furnished room of Eastern origins, as McGonagall and Dumbledore seated themselves beside who he recognized as Hitsugaya's father and uncle, dressed in ornate robes. Introductions were exchanged as the transfer appeared before them, unruffled and as cold as ever, seated himself before a similar conversation was made — it was Dumbledore and Hitsugaya's first meeting. When asked if anything unusual had occurred with his magic, the captain had the courtesy to blush before admitting incidents of accidental magic. Seeing the professors take their leave, Harry believed the memory was done until it shifted once more to something more recent, as he was suddenly in the very office he stood in, only it was occupied with Dumbledore, Snape, McGonagall and Hitsugaya.

Hitsugaya stood before the three professors with a cold glare while McGonagall looked almost terrified for him as Dumbledore opted to observe his student, leaving Snape to be almost in a contemplative demeanor — eyeing the situation like a bomb was to be detonated.

"No, you wouldn't." Hitsugaya snapped. "Allow me to then remind you, Professor. I am not under anyone's permission but my grandfather's. A part of the Order I am, but I do not take orders from any of you. If you do however, try to stop me; then by all means, you may try." _That is what makes everyone wary of you, Hitsugaya. What will you choose?_

As if to answer Harry, the captain shrugged, ignoring the pointed looks at him. "Recall the position of ur former Defence Against the Dark Arts professor and Headmistress currently. I was feeling a bit merciful in my decision to send her to Azkaban, although my grandfather had asked if I wanted to the same to Fudge." Harry's eyes widened. _What had Hitsugaya done to Fudge? He knew that Umbridge was played by Hitsugaya. But… what had happened to Fudge?_

"As in the Minister of Magic?" _Was there another Fudge that they knew of?_

Regardless, Hitsugaya pardoned an answer. "Yes, Professor. The Minister and my fellow colleagues did not see eye-to-eye if you will, and after a small meeting with several methods of persuasion, he was complaint enough to our— ah, _conditions_." Harry felt a shiver run up his spine. It was a loaded answer that screamed for no elaboration if one wanted to keep their life — to his relief, they did not ask.

"You are aware of exactly why I had suggested this plan, are you not?" Dumbledore voiced, as if resigned. Hitsugaya nodded. Then to his horror, Harry watched as the Headmaster wielded his wand, firing a stun at the captain, only to cancel with an orange barrier. Pulling out his own wand, Hitsugaya twirled his wand in his hand, glare threatening as he spoke, when a glint of gold caught Harry's eye. _The locket…! With an 'S' of small emeralds… it couldn't be!_ But the expression on Snape and Dumbledore's face all but confirmed it — "None, but I, can decide their fate." Hitsugaya said, taking Harry from his fixation at the locket. "Therefore, you, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, never really had any position in this other than taking care of Potter as an animal for my slaughter; (Harry flinched at the coldness of the words.) much less, to state what you can allow me to do much anything. I am the 'heavenly guardian' who holds the choice of destroying your hope in the form of an adolescent boy or doing away with the annoyance of a petulant lord that calls himself Voldemort in an act of fear. (Harry had no idea what he was talking about, _Hitsugaya knows what Voldemort fears?_ ) Do not tempt me into choosing wrongly. I will be returning to Japan after the Hogwarts Express arrives at London, Headmaster. Regardless of what you want to do, you know how to contact me."

And with the captain Apparating, the memory ended.

Lifting his face from the dish, Harry gathered himself from the memory. "Did you know, sir? When you first met them?"

"Did I know that I had just met the most powerful Dark Wizard and the heavenly guardian?" Dumbledore elaborated, before pausing. "No. If I had… I…"

"Overtime, while here at Hogwarts, Tom Riddle grew close to one particular professor." The Headmaster said. "Can you guess who that teacher might be?"

Harry knew. "You didn't ask Professor Slughorn back to Hogwarts just to teach Potions did you, sir?"

"No, I did not." Dumbledore confirmed. "You see, Professor Slughorn possesses something I desire endearingly. He will not relinquish it easily."

"And of Hitsugaya?"

"Professor Snape is monitoring him. It is a heavy burden, Harry. For a person to take another's life, not matter how many times one has done it. It changes you and every time you do so, it destroys a piece of yourself along with it."

* * *

Snow pelted and camouflaged itself in his hair as Hitsugaya walked unperturbed in the cold, wearing only a sleeveless black sweater over torn black jeans and combat boots over his feet — he kept his hair windswept as black-gloved hands trailed the snow-covered ledges that secured the edges of Hogsmeade, winter jacket thrown beside him — all eyes noting the sole bandaged arm of the captain. After bidding Nott and Malfoy farewell, the latter insisted he bring a jacket even though he knew the captain found so many layers stuffy and uncomfortable due to his low body temperature.

With the backing of his adopted children, the captain was outvoted.

So, he left the accompanying four in Madame Rosmerta's Three Broomsticks after deadpanning that he needed time alone — leaving the girls in charge because Crabbe and Goyle were more likely to cause trouble while Blaise wouldn't care and would more than happily add kerosene to the fire than to help. In his element, Hitsugaya hummed softly as the snowflakes bloomed into small four-pointed flowers in his hand. The moment one thousand of the flowers blossom, you will be dead, incased in a burial of ice flowers — a more than fitting death for an enemy of Soul Society.

" _ **… It has been a while, Hitsugaya-taicho of the Tenth Division.**_ "

" _ **Tia Harribel, former Très Espada and current ruler of Hueco Mundo.**_ " Toushirou greeted as the hollow appeared before him. She had changed very little since he had last seen her other than the fact that she was in a gigai, most likely supplied by Kurotsuchi, and appeared by much human. It did them no good to appear like the beings of death that they actually were — there was oblivious beings around.

Therefore, she wore a white cropped jacket that stretched just below her eyes, similar to her hollow form, sleeves long as black gloves covered her hands. Zanpakuto strapped to her back, tanned skin was revealed of her mid-riff as black jeans draped over her legs under a silver belt, ending in similar combat boots to the captain. Her emerald eyes glowed stoically as windswept gold locks with three braided loosely, as she unzipped the jacket to speak, revealing painted lips, lack of blue tattoos on each cheek, and an ebony turtleneck that was cut just below her well-endowed bosom. " _ **It is unusual, this mission of yours.**_ "

" _ **It is unique, that I must admit.**_ " Toushirou replied, the flowers breaking to snowflakes in his palm as he regarded her. Like him, she was undeterred by the cold and appeared almost at ease. " _ **You will be the first to know when I locate them.**_ "

" _ **Even before your Head Captain?**_ " Her voice was indifferent enough, but both of them knew it was a loaded question.

" _ **I was given the freedom to report and take action as I deem best for Soul Society.**_ " Toushirou replied evasively. " _ **And as long as Hueco Mundo is in the interest for Soul Society, I do not see any problems in such a task.**_ "

" _ **I will be the one to reap his soul.**_ "

The captain rose a snowy eyebrow as the powdery white ice dusted their forms. " _ **And I would do little to stop you. Once I have all the pieces, I am in no rush to send him to Hell so easily.**_ "

" _ **How vengeful, you are, Hitsugaya-taicho**_."

" _ **This coming from the hollow?**_ " Teal eyes glinted with cold mirth as emerald eyes mirrored it for a moment.

" _ **Who said shinigami were any different from us?**_ " And with that, she disappeared.

In the cold blizzard, Toushirou played with the single flower that the arrancar left, patterned to resemble his division's blossom, a daffodil — teal eyes wistful for a moment before they regained their icy hue. It took a little more than an hour for the others to find him, Pansy and Millicent frowning at his jacket-less form before noting how relaxed he looked in the snow, with a thin layering over his shoulders.

"How long have been out here?" Blaise questioned, rising a brow, his way of displaying concern. Toushirou shrugged, indicating that he wasn't paying attention to such an insignificant thing.

"Did you all enjoy yourselves?" The captain asked instead.

"Yes," Pansy replied with more glee than she should have, sharing a wink with Millicent. "Until I had to fight some Ravenclaws for a lovely skirt I saw first. Jinxed them for good measure while Milly ensured my exit."

"By shoveling through four Hufflepuffs." Blaise hummed, appearing his usual mood which was utter boredom. "While Crabbe and Goyle were busy bingeing at Honeydukes. Barely managed to drag them out of there until I mentioned we were going to get you. Moved faster than I thought possible."

The three exposed just shrugged. It was true.

"And you, Pére? How was your appointment?" Millicent addressed with a curious look. "So important that you even declined us."

"Do not flatter yourself, Bulstrode." The captain huffed, tying his jacket over his waist, ignoring the pointed looks. "The only reason I came to Hogsmeade was the appointment, and it went as well as I expected — although it is a bit odd to be allies when a few years ago, such a thing would have been inconceivable."

"You hated them that much?" Pansy asked as they began to make their way back to Hogwarts as Toushirou narrowed his eyes with inquisitive thoughts.

"It was not hate, more of hatred by association."

"So, you hated their employer or something?" Goyle clarified.

"Essentially." Toushirou sighed, before explaining briefly. "Which led to the two of us nearing killing one another — though we were interrupted before anything too fatal happened. _Mostly_."

"Oh, so like they almost killed you and you returned the favor, only to be interrupted in the midst of your death match?" Crabbe laughed jokingly as the others grinned, not believing that Hitsugaya could be beaten. But the contemplative look on white-haired transfer said it all as he stared at Crabbe like he was more intelligent than he initially deduced before chuckling lightly at their stunned faces.

"In crude terms, but yes, Crabbe." Hitsugaya resisted the urge to laugh at their faces — even Blaise's jaw was slightly hanging. "Just because I am the heir of my house, it does not mean that I am the most powerful of my house and it's enemies. Only that I have the most potential and the youngest. Although, we all are a bit competitive to be the most powerful." _A bit is putting it lightly, Master. You all are downright murderous in shinigami events._

Before the captain could defend himself, a shrill scream broke through the peaceful snow day behind them as they were paused in their steps on the stone bridge, covered in a wintery wonderland of white. The winds picked up in the change of tension, all of them unconsciously reaching for their wands in their pockets.

"What was—?!" Goyle was interrupted by the appearance of a girl in a red sweater, levitating a few meters in the air as she screamed incessantly — arms locked to outstretch at her sides, head back. Frozen, they watched for what seemed forever until she finally fell, as though gravity once again registered on her form, into the cold floor.

"We are getting out of here." An icy voice snapped the other five from their thoughts as they turned to see Toushirou frowning at the sight for a moment, gaze flicking back to them in an instant. "Hold on to one another and do not let go."

They obeyed, grabbing one another's hand and with a grab of Hitsugaya's gloved hand to Blaise's free one, they Apparated — gone from the scene with only one witness. Who only witnessed Hitsugaya placing a finger on his lips, before he disappeared — Harry Potter had no idea what he had just saw. All he knew was that Katie Bell was cursed and Hitsugaya knew it.

* * *

"Why is it that when something happens it is always, you three?"

Harry internally winced at the tired expression on the Head of his House. McGonagall had long ago accepted that the three of them were _somehow_ , by the forces of fate, there when something significant happened. Ron blamed it on Harry's affinity to getting himself killed, Hermione spouted some kind of technical garbage that made his head pound — he stopped listening when she said something about coincidences and the theories about them. Half the time, it was just best to tune the smarty out — therefore, in response to McGonagall's words, Ron sighed.

"I've been asking myself the same thing for _years_ , Professor."

Of course, that was when Severus Snape made his timely arrival, joining McGonagall in their investigation of the cursed necklace. It rested innocently on the parcel it was in, the velvet bed contrasting beautifully with the turquoise gems in ebony frames. Levitating by the magic of Snape, the professors exchanged opinions.

"What do you think?"

Severus spoke with a gravelly tone. "I think, Miss Bell is lucky to be alive."

"She was cursed, wasn't she?" Harry cut in, eyes hard. He saw all he needed to. He _knew_. "I know Katie, and outside the Quidditch pitch, she wouldn't hurt a fly. If she was delivering that to Professor Dumbledore, then she wasn't doing knowingly."

"Yes, she was cursed." McGonagall confirmed, sighing.

"It was Malfoy." Harry declared. " _And_ … I think Hitsugaya _knew_ as well, cursing Katie."

Naturally, at the fatal accusation at the two Slytherins, the two professors were quick to counter — both idly disappointed and wary.

"That is a _very serious_ accusation, Potter." McGonagall turned to them as Hermione and Ron looked at their friend like he had grown two heads. "Draco Malfoy was serving a detention with me this morning. It is not possible for him to have been there at the Three Broomsticks to give this necklace to Katie."

"But Hitsugaya was at Hogsmeade." Harry retorted. " _He_ could have given it to her."

"Your _evidence_?" Snape asked, as the necklace returned to it's case.

"I just _know_." Harry replied, green eyes defiant and sure.

Snape was not convinced, and neither was McGonagall, her eyes unsure to believe that Hitsugaya of all students would do such a thing — the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor took a step further. "You just… ' _know_ '? Once again, you _astonish_ me with your gifts, Potter. Gifts that mere mortals can only dream of possessing, how _grand_ it must be to be the Chosen One."

"I wouldn't go as far as call them _gifts_." A cold voice cut in as all turned to their unexpected guest under the arch of the doorway, to reveal a lone Hitsugaya, covered in a fresh heap of snow fall. He was dressed in his bare outing clothing from earlier despite the snowfall, all eyes zeroing on his fully bandaged arm that ended with a gloved hand. "But your theory intrigues me, Potter. Let us say that if I had, in this _hypothetical_ tale, manipulated Bell into my whim and had her deliver this necklace to her; what do you think my next move would be?"

"I wouldn't know." Harry almost hissed. "Probably angry that your plan didn't work."

"Yes, perhaps." Hitsugaya nodded as he neared them, walking by the necklace. "But if I had planned to murder Dumbledore and my plan had gone to this point, I would come to one conclusion. That I had messed up, misplaced my trust in a student's mishandling and not successfully killing my target. _Then_ what would I do?"

"You would ensure it would not happen again." Hermione blurted.

" _Precisely_. I would use another medium. Katie Bell was a failure. Insufficient as a means and tool. So, what would be more useful?" Hitsugaya flicked his gaze to the necklace, ignoring the glare from the Gryffindors at the address of a victim school girl to be incompetent. "Who is close enough to the Headmaster that I would be able to kill him? A favored student? A teacher?"

"What are you saying, Hitsugaya?" Ron questioned. "Are you saying that you are actually the one behind this?"

" _Hardly_." Hitsugaya snorted, almost insulted. "I am just merely stating that the prospect of another student outside of Slytherin is a _possibility_. Just because you suspect this individual is Slytherin, you limit yourself in seeing what could be the true suspect, someone that you could not see to be the perpetrator until it is too late. Look back in your history, Weasley. In all but the this year, the Third and Fourth Year, your enemies were new _professors_. And the so-called 'enemies' you proclaimed to be in the initial suspicions, turned out to be allies. _Myself and Professor Snape included._ Therefore, what I am saying, is to _look_ and see if you truly _see_ who is the enemy and ally here."

"And if I am _right_?!" Harry shouted, hands fisted by his sides. "What happens then?"

"Then I would be the one who cursed Katie Bell and tried to murder Dumbledore, although I wouldn't have _tried_. He would be _dead_ right now and we would not be having this conversation." Toushirou answered nonchalantly, unfazed by the stares directed at him — the opals of the necklace similar to the captain's cold ones. "Next time, Potter, it would do you well to catch me in act. Because how else will you gather evidence against me? Do not throw accusations in a roundabout way without it — a statement without credible substance behind it? _Who would believe you?_ "

Walking to the exit, the captain paused, turning his head with a thin smile. "Only a fool would listen to you — any logical person, rebutting your claims as fiction and nonsense. So, I invite you, Potter, _catch me if you can_." And with a crack, the Slytherin disappeared.

* * *

In the middle of winter, the Black Lake had frozen over enough to allow anyone of normal weight to walk across without the threat of falling in, but most dared not. After the rumor that merfolk would drag them in with considerable strength, the students were wary of the depths of Black Lake and never dared to go anymore than past the shore other than the Second Task of the Triwizard Tournament. Therefore, to find Toushirou within the waters under the thick ice was unusual. After informing Serena of his visit, the enthusiastic mermaid gave him a tour of the palace before they were found out by her sister, who growled at them for breaking protocol — to which he was able to escape from fortunately.

Releasing a small bubble from his lips, Toushirou drifted in the current, allowing it to take him as it wished. A young kelpie, which were water demons that appeared to be aquatic horses, swam by as his thoughts trailed back to his decision.

 _Hyorinmaru, my gigai is becoming affected by the curse._ Hitsugaya lifted his bandaged hand to his face, shaking lightly. _Soon enough, it will make my hand immobile before festering to the rest of it. Are you sure that you and Sephiroth are unaffected?_

 _Yes, Master._ Hyorinmaru sighed. _The curse appears to only affect the bearer's physical body. We are unharmed. It is only you. Pyrrhus called you an idiot._

 _I can hear him._ Toushirou huffed, feeling the swaying algae tickle his bare feet. _Souma-fixers are effective in keeping it at bay for now. But now that Katie Bell has been attacked and the plot to 'kill' Dumbledore has begun, Voldemort must be confused. How his plan to assassinate me has become a ploy to kill Dumbledore._

 _But?_ Sephiroth sensed, as his master twirled in the water slowly. _You suspect he will react otherwise?_

 _In a sense._ Toushirou felt his locket drift off his chest, the heavy gold gleaming dully in the dark water. _Although he will be angered by the disobedience, killing Dumbledore rather than me is just as much of a victory — I hold his fate in my hands but Dumbledore is an individual who is well-respected and a figure that even Voldemort is wary of. Therefore, if he perished first, morale in the Order would be obsolete — along with their martyr._

 _What of the final Horcrux? Do we even know where it is?_ Pyrrhus cut in with a scowl in his voice, the captain seating himself on a soft anemone, surrounded by colorful coral.

 _No._ Hyorinmaru answered. _And we do not have to. The remaining Horcrux is most likely one that Voldemort keeps close to his person, just in case the others are destroyed. We can destroy it when he appears._

The grey dragon eyed the ice one. _How do you know that he's going to come here?_

 _Because neither Master nor Dumbledore will die as he planned. So, he will most likely send his followers and then once they are dealt with, who do you think comes after they fail to do the same?_

 _Hiding behind his own men._ Sephiroth snarled, displeased. _How cowardly._

Toushirou hummed, lying back in the icy water. Fully dressed in his clothes other than his shoes that were brushed by the shore, the transfer fingered the thin chain of the locket, eyes drifting to the white ice ceiling of the lake as dark waters surrounded him, comforting in the quiet other than rumbles of his dragons. That is until two black blurs marred the white ice above and the echo of warbled voices sounded above him — taking the captain a moment to gather that the blurs were actually the under-soles of shoes as he watched them move. _What was going on up there?_

Sitting up, Toushirou kicked under him to propel himself to the white layer of ice, the voices becoming more coherent (although very much muffled) and shoe shadows less blurry — the reiatsu was muffled as well to his annoyance.

" _ **—ringo!**_ " When Toushirou had put the spell together, he was too late to move as the ice just above his face broke, exploding in a loud boom. Toushirou, being someone who breathed, involuntarily breathed in and swallowed the icy waters, choking as he was disorientated — instincts persevering as he needed air _now_ — kicking himself up to the surface with a small gasp. Before he could even gather his wits and realize what the familiar reiatsu surrounding him was, five pairs of hands pulled him out of the water and onto the ice, a thick and warm jacket over his frame a split-second later.

"W-What in the—" Toushirou managed to cough out, grimacing at the plant taste in his mouth as he continued cough, barely taking in that someone was shouting.

"—thought you were a _bloody_ prodigy! What kind of _idiot_ just goes off and—! _Toushirou!_ _Just what in world did you think you were doing?!_ " Blinking away the water from his face, Toushirou realized that a very angry and concerned Malfoy gripped his shoulders, shouting at him, his suit damp at the sleeves where they pulled him out of the water. Surrounding him, was the others all sporting their own displays of concern; Crabbe and Goyle standing around them protectively, Millicent and Pansy sighing in relief as they held one another, Blaise and Nott hovering with actual human expression — it appeared that he had scared them. Noting that it was now night (and from the look of it, _very late_ into the night) and he had entered the waters when it was day, he was underwater for a long time. Longer than he had intended.

"I was swimming." Toushirou revealed at point-blank, wet and hair dripping as he was still cloaked in Blaise's jacket — teal eyes meeting the grey ones evenly. "I was unaware that so much time had passed when I was under there."

" _S-Swi—!_ " Malfoy looked like he was about to have an aneurysm, a second away from hitting him. "You mean to tell me, the reason you wandered off after practically telling Potter of our ploy, was so that you can go for a swim? _You decided to go on a_ _ **fucking**_ _swim in the middle of winter, and in the dead of night?!_ "

Toushirou rose an eyebrow. "Draco, cal—"

" _Do not 'Draco' me, Toushirou._ When we saw your shoes, we— _I_ — thought…" _that you tried to escape..._

 _ **Smack!**_ Draco was stunned, as he placed a hand over his red cheek — grey eyes shocked as they took in the annoyed Toushirou who stared at him with a frown as he pulled Draco into his arms — ignoring the small squeak from Millicent.

"I'm sorry." Toushirou whispered, eyes hidden in his fringe. "I had lost track of time underwater, conversing with the mermaids of our treaty and did not realize that I worried you and the others. The fact that I have... friends that are worried of my whereabouts here is still... _new_."

"And of Potter?" Malfoy snapped, having gotten over his shock but was determined to remain angry, although did not move from his embrace even if he was freezing cold. Toushirou, in the other hand, wasn't even shivering.

Toushirou snorted lightly. "Potter is ignorant from my misdirection, turning his attention on me rather than you; it was to ensure that you would be able to pull off the tasks with more ease. I would not reveal our plans when they have just begun."

"How were you down there for so long?" Draco demanded, looking at the captain in the eye as he pulled out of the hug, faces mere inches away from each other. "Gillyweed is not _that_ effective."

"My magic is centered over water and ice, Draco. It is no problem for me to underwater for more than a few hours." Toushirou revealed with a shrug before a thin smirk covered his lips. "Though, it is difficult to maintain it after a while, especially when someone shoots a _Confringo_ in my face."

Malfoy had the decency to blush. " _I thought you were dead!_ "

Toushirou huffed, insulted. "As if I would die so easily."

"If you are done, Maman and Pére, there are minors around." Nott's voice broke their tennis match of wits as they realized they were mere centimeters from lip-locking; Crabbe and Goyle turned away with red cheeks, Pansy and Millicent silently fangirling and cheering them with the suspiciously obsessive mantra of ' _KISS KISS KISS_ ' while Blaise looked amused at the girls' antics. "And if you aren't dying as your lovely _wife_ ( _Who the fuck is the wife here?_ Malfoy muttered quietly, but from Toushirou's glance, not quiet enough.) had thought, we all should head back to the dungeons before Filch catches us — it is past our bedtime, boys and girls."

"You're not Maman." Crabbe frowned as Nott eyed him with an appraised look.

"No, but when Maman and Pére are being lovey-dovey (Malfoy felt a sudden urge to smack Nott. Oh look, so did his husband.), it is up to the eldest child to put his younger siblings to their place."

"Who the h—"

" _Ah, ah._ Pére, is that language that you should be using in front your children?"

Toushirou, instead of displaying the universal sign for screw off, shrugged off Blaise's jacket to Draco before walking over the hole in the ice, all of them confused as the blonde eyed his spouse warily. "Toushirou, what are you doing?" (You better not.)

"Drowning myself to escape this madness." ( _Bite me._ )

In the end, they had to hide as the tell-tale sound of a grumbling Filch was in the vicinity, Nott accidentally slipping into the lake the last minute of scrambling under a barrier— Blaise turned away when Malfoy had asked if he saw anything. _No, he didn't._ Nothing like Toushirou's wandless magic or anything. Malfoy nodded at him proudly. — by the transfer, who conveniently forgot ( _intentionally_ ) Nott was in the lake. After fishing a sputtering Nott out after Crabbe had decided to knock out Filch, the eight of them made their way back to the dorms, having forgotten about the unconscious caretaker in the midst of disciplining their eldest progeny.


	6. Something is Off

Chapter 6: Something is Off…

When they finally made it to the Common Room, Pansy immediately took charge and shoved the boys to their dorm, ordering them to get their swim trunks and towels and meet the girls there. Knowing better than to oppose a woman with a plan, the boys slowly obeyed before doing as they wished — her idea was to have a soak at the large Prefects' Bathroom since they had a long day (Plotting and near-death experiences are _bad_ for the skin. Pansy said sagely as she ushered them in.).

"How do you know it's empty and not to mention, the _password_?" Nott inquired, as Pansy smiled innocently wide.

"A girl has her ways, dearest Nott." They wisely did not ask.

In the matter of fifteen minutes, the eight of them were in the large pool, scented with jasmine oil and light lavender salts, having just finished shampooing (and conditioning for the girls) — the girls in one-piece bathing suits, the boys in trunks as the water was warmed. Although he was annoyed by the heat, Toushirou couldn't just force the humans to be in ice water because of it, it was not like it did much of anything to him other than make him a bit uncomfortable — at least it wasn't the hot springs. Teal eyes gazed lazily at his companions; Draco was conversing with Nott and Blaise about something, Crabbe and Goyle were trying to make the most bubbles with the newly added peach bath powder while Pansy was speaking to Millicent of new beauty products.

It was two in the morning — they should have been asleep; but Toushirou knew what they thought what had happened for a moment tonight _scared_ them. That was why they constantly sent glances to him, as if to reassure themselves that he was there.

Toushirou sighed softly, swimming quietly to the mosaic that shone out to the snow storm outside. The moonlight made his white hair shine with silvery sheen, the water drops comparable to unicorn tears as they clung on the lithe but toned body of the young man, his only blemish was the tightly bandaged arm (which Toushirou insisted on keeping on), but even that in the moonlight, basked with ethereal light — Draco adverted his eyes swiftly after he realized he was gaping. — but from the amused eyes of the others, not fast enough.

"How did you all find me?" All their heads swiveled to the captain, who did not turn, eyes still on the mosaic, arms crossed on the tiles. "I informed no one of my whereabouts after I spoke to Potter. And that was nearly twelve hours ago. So, how?"

Malfoy shrugged as he swam over, beside the transfer, seating himself but facing the others — grey eyes fixated on the ceiling. "I sent the others everywhere you have been — the library, the Common Room, the Room of Requirement, _everywhere_ — until I remembered you had told me about the treaties and alliances you had with the centaurs and merfolk. When we saw only your shoes… you know from there."

"So that's how." Toushirou hummed, resting his head on his arms. "I should refrain my words when around you, from now on. Would have saved me a _**Confringo**_ to the face."

Malfoy blushed as the two faced one another. "I thought I was saving you! Would you drop it already?!"

"You thought wrong." Toushirou retorted bluntly, cracking a thin grin. "Though, you were more ruffled when we first had an _actual_ conversation. You should know better than to think I would allow such a _gift_ to become bygones so easily."

The blonde shoved him, as Toushirou rose an eyebrow — soaked. "You want to play _this_ game, Draco?"

Malfoy had the huffiness of a noble, nose in the air. " _Maybe_. If the _great_ Captain Hitsugaya would indulge a _commoner_ like myself."

Toushirou rolled his eyes, this time shoving the blonde, who fell into the water with a yelp. "I _might_. If your _astronomic_ ego could take it, _Malfoy_."

Draco resurfaced with a glint in his eyes, hands ready to splash. " _You_ started this."

Toushirou rose an eyebrow, standing as well. "On the contrary, Draco, this was all _your_ doing." And with a flick of his wrist, the water fight began, the two of them having not noticed that their progeny had left some time ago and was secretly commenting (recording this domestic fluff — We _need_ to record this shit before the angst comes, Blaise! _HOW ELSE DO YOU GET BY._ ) by the doors.

* * *

After another late morning nonsense when Draco was found on his bed (he had _somehow_ rolled over in the middle of the night — he suspected foul play), Toushirou entered the Great Hall with a mild headache, still not wearing his cloak — alone this time, having abandoned the progeny with their mother. _No_ , he felt not an ounce of remorse for such an action. Grabbing a cup of black coffee and a slice of toast, he could feel the dangerous chemicals slowly sending the pounding sensation of this morning's antics away. _Oh, sweet caffeine…_

"Hitsugaya! We need to talk!" _Unless you want to talk to my_ _ **fist**_ _, I'm not talking._

But against his internal thoughts, he turned at the mention of his name, meeting the sight of a confident Ron Weasley, followed by Harry and Hermione. His most _favorite_ people in the world. _Far from it._ The two others were acting off, the former wary of Hitsugaya while Hermione was watching Ron carefully, like she was waiting for him to slip up. At this point, Hitsugaya found himself not giving much of a damn. _Huh._

"If you wanted to exchange words, I would ask you do so _quickly_ , Weasley. It is a late morning and I have classes to attend." Toushirou swallowed his new expresso. Judging from the day, he needed it. "So, start talking. _Now._ "

"You better watch out in the game tonight." Ron said with pomp, chest huffed out with odd overconfidence. "I'm playing Keeper and there's no way I'm going to let you bloody Slytherins win."

Hitsugaya rose a brow, resting his face against his gloved hand. _What is your point in saying this to me, who trained you last year?_ "Interesting proposal, Weasley. But I have no intention of participating in Quidditch. I am preoccupied with other appointments than to spend time to win the House Cup."

"Other appointments?" Harry honed in like a bloodhound. "Like _what?_ "

"How about none of _your_ concern?" Toushirou snapped, feeling more annoyed than he was usually before standing. "And if that was all you and your group of followers have to say, then you will excuse me; I have _class_."

Effectively brushing them off, Toushirou arrived to Snape's classroom with a burst of speed, alone other than the professor himself, sensing the ire of his best student. "Hitsugaya."

Toushirou returned the greeting with a nod — deciding that this as good as any to give his report. "Potter is suspicious of me as planned, and the curse on Katie Bell should be wearing off, even if she did touch it."

Snape nodded knowingly. "Yes. However, she is going to be in St. Mungo's until it is entirely gone. The reaction to the Dark Lord is within your predictions, having sent Draco more… _specific_ orders of to now kill the Headmaster and try to convince you to join his cause. My own is to be to assist in that task — any indication otherwise that shows your allegiance to the Headmaster would result in your immediate execution."

Toushirou gained a dark glint in his eye. "Has he mentioned anything of 'hollows'?"

Snape narrowed his eyes. " _No._ "

 _So, he decided to keep them to himself. How interesting. New toys are often not shared until the owner is comfortable to risk losing them, after all._ Toushirou ignored Snape's brooding look, before taking out his paperwork to do. He had reports to go over, no matter what anyone says. Absorbed in his work, he was taken from his reverie to find Blaise beside him, absently taking notes while Draco and Nott took the seats behind him, Millicent and Pansy off on the other side of the class. Apparently, they were going over how to resist the Imperius Curse, one of the three Unforgivable Curses that when conducted correctly, makes the victim completely under the caster's control — depriving them completely of free will. It was terrifying to be under such control but one with exceptional mental strength similar to Occlumency could resist it. Systematics were the plan for today, but due to swift lecture, they had some time for practical application.

Naturally, Harry was offered as guinea pig. That had a mouth to protest.

Therefore, after an argument of _***surprise surprise***_ Gryffindor against Slytherin ( _again_ ) that made his head pound further, Toushirou looked about ready to run Hyorinmaru through the Chosen One if the eyeing of a pale Blaise beside him was anything to go by. Hinamori did tell him that he had a habit of making his glare colder and colder like a harsh blizzard when he grew more and more irritated — perhaps he should have been less cold. Pulling out his wand with a shrug to the idle thought, Hitsugaya walks up and sends the curse onto a distracted Potter, a light blue gas escaping the pointed end straight at Harry's face.

They all watched as Harry's eyes glazed, glassy and staring at nothing until Toushirou snapped his fingers. "Potter, you will obey everything I ask of you. Do you understand?"

"… _Yes_." Harry nodded slowly in a trance, a stupid smile on his face.

"Give me your wand."

Harry and everyone else freezes while Hitsugaya remains unfazed. Hesitantly, with a small frown on his face now, Harry reaches for his wand, resisting the magic as his emerald eyes grow brighter ever-so-slightly. But no matter how delayed it was, the Chosen One still revealed his wand, before stopping, unyielding to obey fully.

Hitsugaya held out his gloved hand, eyes expectant like a master speaking to his pet. "I believe I was clear, Potter. _Give me your wand._ "

As if the words had physically pulled him to obey, Harry handed over his wand, defenseless and unarmed — the smile replaced. And with a snap of his fingers, Toushirou broke his curse over the bespectacled boy, who blinked confusedly before seeing his wand in Toushirou's grasp.

Before Harry could shoot off any accusations, the captain tossed the wand back him, ignoring him completely as he asked if that was sufficient as a demonstration of the curse for the day. Understandably, the following talk of the school was Hitsugaya's brushoff of his former housemates and the upcoming Slytherin vs. Gryffindor match that afternoon. Somehow, the knowledge of Ron being a prick to Hitsugaya that morning further drowned the opinion of the Weasley name, especially after the revelation that Hitsugaya had made time to train him for his position; all happening before the match began. Hitsugaya gave less than a damn as he was busy — having retreated to the one place people could not disturb him (he told Draco not to look for him and that he would be _fine_ ).

* * *

Covered in blood, Toushirou ignored the pooling crimson on the snow-covered forest floor as he froze off the remnants off Hyorinmaru's blade. It had been so long since he had used his Bankai or even had the need to really summon his Shikai, to wish that the period of time would continue was an idealistic dream. He was to end this strife this year, a majority of it planned and thought out — even with the development of the missing Espada — it made only his plan a little more difficult to flesh out; but in the long run, no big deal.

Plans were what he did, although he knew from experience that someone pointing at him to kill something without really needing to think about it was gratifying in it's own way. Similar how Zaraki cut down those identified as enemies without a blink, charging headfirst — there was a burst of pleasure in creating chaos, but the consequences were too grave to bear. So, he compromised. He could kill just as recklessly as Zaraki ruthlessly even, but after he ensured that he had looked at the situation in every perspective he could (within his power) and then let loose.

Assume the enemy was smarter than him and counter plans with what he would have done and make arrangements for simpler moves — in other words, plan as much as possible and then, improvise along the way.

"You must be out of it if I was able to come this close and you did not notice." Soft clops of hooves echoed dimly as Toushirou found Bane beside him, bow at the ready but his demeanor calm.

"I wouldn't call it that." The captain replied, sheathing his sword. "More of you were not perceived as a threat."

Bane nodded, knowing that the young student was merely stating a fact and meant no insult. "In all respect, you do seem a bit off. Not necessarily distracted but more… _indifferent_. Aloof."

"More than I already was?" The shinigami bluntly asked.

Bane hummed in agreement. The centaur was not one to mince his words, after all.

"Is it that obvious?" Hitsugaya asked more to himself than to Bane. The moonlight soaked their forms as the white of the snow reflected it ethereally, the snowflakes powdering ever so slowly. "My friends would be concerned."

The centaur looked at him with a hint of surprise.

"Is it so difficult to picture that I have friends?" Toushirou scowled lightly. He was made aware recently that he lacked some ( _apparently_ ) common social skills, but his argument was that if they grew up in Soul Society, social interaction was not the most important virtue. Either way, it was a bit insulting when someone other than his dragons mentioned it.

"No." Bane admitted surprisingly. "What surprised me was that you were able to perceive that they would be worried for you. You remind me of a lone player, who does not associate with others well." _Similar to me._

"Your assessment is not wrong." Hitsugaya admitted, enjoying the outdoor air. "Not that any of my colleagues would be any better — all of us may be colleagues, but only when a problem grows into one that garners our attention is when I would say that we actually work together or be each other's company. A very different dynamic to your herd mentality."

"In desperate times, you are together, that is enough."

Toushirou smiled darkly. "Only _barely_. But you speak truly, Bane, it was _enough_."

The centaur was not ignorant to the hidden words at the end. _But for how long will it be enough?_

* * *

As expected, Slughorn's Christmas party was exquisite and expensively exclusive for the best of the elite that were handpicked by the professor — members of the Club granted to invite one guest as their date or escort for the party. And similarly to the Yule Ball, Toushirou received a mountain of letters from many to invite them with him as his date, not all as innocent as they first seemed. Prompted by his peers at the table to open at least one, he tore open the cream-colored envelope, only to duck when a _Stun_ burst from the parchment, striking a Ravenclaw on the back of the head, knocking the poor student out.

No one blamed him for asking Nott and Blaise for destroying the rest.

It got so bad that Pansy had sampled a bit of the transfer's untouched lunch, only to fall head over heels for a Gryffindor first-year girl that he was sure the older girl had terrorized before — and soon increased afterwards when she snapped out of it.

"This is getting ridiculous." The ice captain sighed, pushing aside the rest of his lunch.

"Here." Draco held out his own plate, piled with food. "I've already tried most of it, so you'll be fine. They must have enchanted your plate and not the food."

Not the first time they've ever shared a plate, Toushirou absently ate off of it with a thin fork, not noticing the coos from the daughters off to the side as the conversation between the boys continued.

"The only way you are going to solve this is by choosing who you're going to go to the party with." Blaise hummed, as he glared at Crabbe for stealing one of his dinner rolls. "I already asked Milly to come along with me for the party. Flora and Hestia are going with Theo and Pansy, all together as a group."

Toushirou hummed, not answering as Malfoy turned to all of them with an unimpressed eye. "He's taking me. And bugger off, he asked already."

(AND I DIDN'T RECORD IT?! Pansy screamed mentally at Millicent.

The other Slytherin girl was just as offended.)

Therefore, that December night, all of them arrived with their invitations in hand to a ballroom of golden curtains that illuminated with red Chinese lanterns, served by young men in white uniforms — simple yet elegant in appearance. And the group of snakes did not fail to follow through. Flora and Hestia were dressed in identical green gowns that were accented with black ruffles, only a light green and lime green rose in their red hair to differentiate between them as they locked arms with an all-black Nott, from his suit to his shined shoes — showing off his hunter green shirt and golden lapels. Pansy glowed from behind in a black mini, hair in princess ringlets as an emerald rose clip adorned her head, the thin dark green ribbon at her midsection flowing past her knees, accenting her ballet shoes. Beside them, Blaise escorted in Millicent in his arm, in a charcoal grey suit with golden buttons as a dark green tie dulled beside a young lime green rose, barely blooming. His date was dressed in a bell-shaped dress of royal purple as a dark green corset wove on her midsection, modestly covering up her breast as a golden necklace glowed at her neckline with matching teardrop earrings. Her brown hair was curled for the occasion, as it fell in waterfalls from her high ponytail.

Lastly, catching most of the attention, was Malfoy and Hitsugaya. The former was dressed in an informal black tie, forgoing the usual tie for a thin black bow and a light blue vest over his abdomen as black gloves tied a teal ribbon over his waist, sagging over his hip. The platinum locks were tamed to one side, brushed over his forehead as grey eyes were locked on his lime rose, pinned over his heart. Beside him, Hitsugaya wore a more Victorian styled-jacket, bronze buttons and lapels gleaming in the dimmed lighting as the black jacket clipped in a high collar, peeking a teal shirt underneath as black gloves that were ringed with gold held a flute of red gently. Black shorts stretched to milky thighs that ended in ribboned boots, that ended just above the knee as the captain looked almost exasperated in his outfit, a small train of shredded black and teal lace behind him. His white hair was brushed tame, hiding one of his eyes, bangs opposite of Draco's as a black beret nestled on it, with teal ribbon and a lime rose in full bloom.

 _The things that he did for Matsumoto._ Toushirou growled as he was photographed with the group, having promised that he would send her a copy. She was so disappointed when he had not attended the Yule Ball and this came to her attention, she understatedly, went _all_ _out_ for her superior to outclass the foreigners.

Judging from the impressed looks from his friends when he came down from the dorms, she had succeeded. Twirling his drink of red pomegranate juice, Toushirou blinked as he saw Neville near him, the others having dispersed. "Longbottom, a bit demeaning for you to be spending your night."

The brown-haired wizard shrunk back at the blunt words. "Yeah. But I'm the lucky one, Hitsugaya. Belby's at the kitchens."

"Either way," Toushirou sighed as he nodded at the tray of gold champagne. "Have a bit more pride, Longbottom. You may have not qualified for Slughorn's Slug Club, but you are worth _more_ than just being a bus boy."

"I guess…" Neville mumbled, before bidding the transfer a festive night.

Draco tilted his head as he returned, having gotten himself a drink. "What was that about? Longbottom is here?"

"As a bus boy." Hitsugaya hummed, eyeing that no one foolish stepped on his train of lace. Although the fabrics did not trail the floor, they danced close enough. "Curse this thing, this is the last time I allow Matsumoto to choose my outfits."

Draco gave him a sardonic stare, before eyeing down his escort. "You won't go through with it, she's too valuable. Besides, it's not as if she has bad tastes or anything."

"I am not a doll for you to admire, Draco. As much as our children would like it to be so." Hitsugaya rolled his eyes, knowing that it irked Draco just as much as him. Glancing at his pocket watch, Toushirou read the time. "Speaking of children, where have they all wandered off to now?"

The blonde shrugged, sipping his own flute. "I'm not keeping an eye on them. They're old enough to be self-sufficient."

Toushirou said nothing, silently agreeing. He was already liable for over two hundred people, anymore and he would kill _more_ than just somebody. The night continued on as Slughorn was actively avoiding him after greeting his party upon entrance. That honestly suit Hitsugaya fine, he had gotten what he wanted out of the man. There was no need to aggravate him further — Potter needed to be blindsided by something after all. And Dumbledore's proposal was not inadequate. A ripple of black caught the corner of his eye, as Toushirou glanced to see Snape speaking to Potter, exchanging a few words. Having tuned out the dribble from what the wizards before them considered conversation, the captain left Malfoy to pick up the pieces of his cold yet blunt retorts when addressed for which the transfer was grateful as these days, it was rare for him even to answer annoyingly fake initiative conversationalists.

In any case, he knew the Potions Master was watching him and vice versa. The two made no illusions or actions to indicate otherwise, even reporting and exchanging words of developments. Both parties were competent and therefore, confided in one another when they believed it was necessary.

That was why when the professor materialized before him and Draco, he was unsurprised to have been ushered to an empty balcony, past large window doors. Snape spoke first. "Hitsugaya, Mr. Malfoy. The Headmaster sends you his warmest holiday greetings for this winter to which he assumes you both will be at Malfoy Manor. To you, Hitsugaya, the Headmaster asks for your presence in his office after the festivities have finished."

And with that, the Potions Master promptly left after the two thanked him, leaving them standing in the silent snowfall.

"What do you suppose what Dumbledore wants from you now?" Draco asked, looking up at the transfer. The blonde was leaning back against the stone railing, face half-illuminated by the lanterns in the ball. Toushirou gave him a half-shrug from his seat at the railing, hugging a bent knee to his chest as the other leg dangled off the edge, eyes watching the snowflakes dance.

Draco bit his lip, feeling ice in his stomach. There was something _off_ with his friend. Ever since the Black Lake incident, _no_ — ever since he returned for this year. Toushirou was a master liar and player of manipulative chess but Draco saw it. The small moments when his eyes would glaze over and wander, when his cold and calculative grew weary like they were tired of the world and what it had to offer. That was why he was so… _concerned_ … that night.

The heir of Malfoy Manor ignored the signs early on,, believing that when Toushirou wished to speak of it, he would. It wasn't like he was the poster child of conveying feelings and emotions neither.

He knew that the antics of his friends eased his closest friend well enough as of late, distracting both of them for as well as it could, considering Toushirou was handling misdirecting Potter, keeping up talks with Dumbledore and Snape, blind-siding Voldemort, and not to mention; the transfer's own homeland activities and schoolwork. Malfoy was surprised that it took his friend this long to slip off once in a while. He would have pitched himself off somewhere by now if he were in the same situation.

Eyes traveling to the subject of his thoughts, Malfoy found himself feeling wistful.

"Hitsugaya, do you know why the snow suits you?"

If Toushirou noticed his friend's change in tone, he didn't show it. "It is my magic?"

He sees Draco shake his head slowly, hand extended as if to catch the droplets of solidified water. "No. It represents _you_. In first glance, snow is an intricate web like a crystal that is admired from afar, so strong and imposing when it forms a glacier in silence but looking closer, it was so _fragile_."

"How philosophical of you." Draco pretended to not hear the soft waver. "You are no different."

"To snow?"

"No, to what represents _you_." Toushirou paused, eyes still watching the snow. " _Steel_. It is in your eyes. At first, the alloy must be melted and cooled many times until the desired product has formed, strong enough and stable enough to be useful. The initial ore was so fragile, broken and lost until with enough pressure, became the foundation of what could have changed everything."

Malfoy faced the captain, eyes unreadable. "You place too much merit on me."

"Or it could be that you underestimate yourself." Toushirou met his eyes, mirroring.

Neither mentioned how close they were, they didn't have to.

"There's something wrong." Draco whispered, the snow pelting them softly as he idly noted how they dusted the captain's eyelashes. It was so delicate. Like him. "And you have been keeping it from me."

"I have many secrets, Draco." Hitsugaya breathed back, sending shivers down Malfoy's spine. "Is it so surprising that there were some that I do not share with you?"

"No." He expected it, even. He knew where he stood with Toushirou. And he was willing to cross it. "But I don't like it."

With a tug of Toushirou's jacket, he pulled the white-haired male's lips to his own. Toushirou froze for half a second in surprise and shock, before to his astonishment, kissed him back, tasting the sweet and sharp pomegranate as the cold lips pillowed over his.

* * *

AN: Okay, I'm going to address something here.

This story has taken a dip of romance because I thought it was appropriate. But I would like readers to be aware that it is not the main focus of the story and will continue to not be for two reasons: 1) I cannot write romance for long. I don't like it and it's not my cup of tea for writing. 2) That was not intention of this story. The focus of this story is Hitsugaya's adventures in Hogwarts, the friendships and interactions that he could have had in a Harry Potter AU, in my own version.

If you do not care for the sprinkling of romance here and there, you may by all means stop reading the story. Thank you for reading it up to here if that is your choice.

And for those who like the extra tidbit, thank you for your sincere support.


	7. Infectious Confusion

Chapter 7: Infectious Confusion

Blank teal eyes stared at the star-filled sky as the small and well-dressed figure stood as still as a statue, gloved fingers tracing pinker than usual lips. Feeling like his face was going to burn through his own Bankai, the transfer commanded himself to get a grip, his thoughts racing faster than any wifi could ever hope to be. Groaning softly, the events leading up to his situation made him grimace as he rubbed his eyes against the balls of his palms, idly noting that he was on his knees in snow.

 _What was this? Did he feel something? Or was it friendship? What was even going on? Why had Draco done that? And why did he respond? Why did he run away from him? And why did he do the same?_ Toushirou clamped his eyes shut as he cupped his ears, as if it would help him keep out all of the questions in his head. To his dismay, it did absolutely nothing. _Why… How… did it even happen?_

Toushirou frowned severely. He was confused, disoriented and most importantly, **vulnerable**. He had no room to be any of those things.

Regaining his feet, he took a breath before carefully replaying the events following their kiss on the balconies. After their brief moment of world quietness that isolated them from everything, Toushirou was the first to pull away, realizing what they were doing. By the time he had taken in fully what they had done, he was on roof, unfocused and Malfoy was nowhere to be found. _Had he regretted it? Was that why he ran?_

Toushirou shook his head. _He didn't even know what he felt. He had no right to be wondering such things. But Draco was the one who initiated it. Was that his proclamation of wanting more than friendship? Was he suppose to take it platonically? How did people know these things?_ Groaning mentally, Toushirou ignored the you-are-really-innocent-cinnamon-huh? look from Pyrrhus, the amused smirk of Hyorinmaru as he was not helping (he was having a crisis and the damned dragon was having amusement from his torment) while Sephiroth looked surprised at the level of innocence (strong social density) in his master. Either way, the three of them had made it clear that they were not helping him with this one.

Oblivious to the consequences of his thoughts, the snowstorm grew harsher as the hail grew heavy, pelting the air with frigid snow. _What was he supposed to do now?_

In a lone classroom, a just as confused Malfoy rested his back against the door, steel eyes glossy and swirling like liquid mercury. Black bow untied and collar popped, the blonde ran a hand through his hair, just as shaken as his best friend. _Why did he do that…?_

 _What did Toushirou think of him now? What, in the bloody hell, was he thinking? He told himself that he would wait for the transfer to open up to him. He had no right to force it out of him. And Toushirou deserved that much as a friend._

Draco knew why. He wanted to cross that line. The line that Toushirou had implicitly drew — one that he allowed. He knew that his best friend had many secrets, a dark corner that he was not allowed to touch. Malfoy suspected that there was some not even shared by anyone but Hitsugaya alone. And he respected it. At least, he _thought_ he did. _He knew all of this. Then why? Why, did he dare to push him?_

 _Would Toushirou not be his friend anymore?_

The very thought made Draco Malfoy shutter.

Toushirou was the one who held out his hand and took him _out_ of his destiny to be a Death Eater, a fate that his parents chose for him out of fear. He was his truest friend, the one who called him out, the one who was always there and watching, the one who knew what to do at all times — and he _crossed_ the line.

A move that he feared to have _cost_ him his friend.

 _ **KNOCK, KNOCK!**_

"Draco." The blonde flinched at the voice addressing him in his given name. The _familiar_ baritone.

"Toushirou." A sliding sound and a thud echoed in the hallway as the captain seated himself on the other side of the door. "Y-You're still here?"

The white haired teen did not acknowledge the stutter but instead was silent, until with a soft voice replied. " _I'm still here._ "

* * *

Heels clicked on the granite as Hitsugaya made his way to the Headmaster's office, free of snow and moisture in his formal outfit — his train dragging behind him as he climbed the stairs with slow steps. He had no time to digest fully the events of the night. But sadly, the evening was far from done. _Not now._

After he had reminded Draco that he had to see the Headmaster, the blonde had gone quiet behind the door before he whispered an affirmative and told him that he would meet him at Malfoy Manor with the others. Toushirou personally agreed, as they both needed _time_ to really think. And that was to be done apart before it could be done together. Swallowing another sigh, he greeted Dumbledore with a nod, having bid him a good evening.

To be perfectly honest, Toushirou didn't know _what_ kind of evening he had.

"You summoned me, Headmaster?"

If the elder wizard caught Hitsugaya's off behavior, he didn't express it. He merely smiled before nodding. "Yes, Mr. Hitsugaya. At such a late hour, I will not take up much of your time before relieving you for the night. What do you make of Harry's status so far?"

Hitsugaya pursed his lips. "He has determined that I have plans to bring harm to Hogwarts with Malfoy. But he is, for now, distracted with the tasks you have assigned him. But he has had a close enough watch over me. At least for his repertoire."

"I see." Dumbledore nodded. "And of Voldemort?"

"I have plans set and undergoing with little change." Hitsugaya replied evasively before moving a hand over a crystal orb on a stray desk. "All things considered at the very least."

"You are too young, Mr. Hitsugaya." The young wizard looked at his headmaster with a tilted head, face pulled to a joyless smirk. "Too young to be burdened with all of _this_."

"That doesn't make it any less there, Headmaster." Toushirou shrugged, rolling the ball in his gloved hands. It was not the first nor would it be the last he would hear of this in regards of his age. "Age is a mere number. It is the _resilience_ of the individual is what matters — can they take what is before them? Can they keep themselves away long enough from the breaking point? Only to realize how _futile_ it is in the end?"

Toushirou returned the crystal to it's velvet bed. "Did you know, Headmaster?"

"Know of what, Mr. Hitsugaya?"

"How futile doing anything was?" Toushirou asked, idling noting the pale yellow sheen of the crystal. "To live and do _something_ with one's life, when all we do is a mere dust cloud in the span of the universe? Nothing is constant but _change_ — and we as the pawns this grand game can only move accordingly. That is what _nature_ is, it is unnatural to be the same overtime — therefore, regardless of age, we are all the same before it."

"What have I done to have such a philosophical student?" Dumbledore asked, his tone whimsical before growing older. "It is natural and the tune we sing to — it is because of this limit that we must live fully before it _is_ time. Life is to be celebrated and enjoy, no matter how perilous and trying the trials are and just because there may be less or even nothing on the other side, at the very least, you would be _satisfied_ with how you lived. Through your own _hands_."

" _My_ own hands?" Toushirou laughed without any humor. "Are you referring to the Dark Lord? The way he had taken his own _soul_ in his own hands?"

Dumbledore frowned. " _No._ That was not what I was referring to at all."

"I see." Toushirou pursed his lips, before turning to the exit. "Was that all, Headmaster?"

"Yes." Dumbledore nodded after a pause, an odd glint in his eyes. "You may go. Have a good evening, Mr. Hitsugaya."

Absently nodding, the captain left, dimly noting the look overbearing his form.

* * *

Later on the following night, Toushirou appeared at the doors of Malfoy Manor, shined shoes digging into the white gravel underfoot, dressed as if he was ready to go to a funeral. Complete with matching gloves and respective jewelry, his hair was tamed in it's usual messy state, the only color being a teal handkerchief in his jacket pocket. One suitcase by his side, Toushirou nodded as the servant took it from him, another greeting him to follow into the main hall. Given a flute of blackberry wine with a dash of pomegranate, the captain made his entrance.

His friends were all present, along with their parents — all dressed in the same formal attire for the occasion. A tall male that could only be Goyle's father conversed with a man that looked like an aged Crabbe as the other fathers seemed to have segregated themselves to their own conversation, gathered before the main fireplace with glasses of expensive spirits. The wives were no different as they were situated in a cluster of small tables free of chairs, chatting amiably with simple but clearly costly dresses and jewelry, classic heirlooms and family jewels without doubt. As the ladies took one end of the room, his friends took the other, dressed as darkly as he did with a few choice pieces of color in varying shades of green. They represented their House, naturally.

"Please welcome, Heir of the House of Yamamoto and Captain of the Tenth Division of Japan, Toushirou Hitsugaya." All eyes turned to him at the announcement, smiles nonexistent and eyes sharp to analyze the child that their Lord so desperately wanted on their side.

"Toushirou." Malfoy greeted first, breaking the silence as it devolved into chatter once more. Hitsugaya fought back the flare of confusion and at the sight of the other. Draco was dressed to impress, a suit of charcoal with a dark green tie, lapels silver. "Welcome to my home once more, my friend."

The very formal address of Hitsugaya made Blaise give them a look of exasperation, which was the most Toushirou had ever seen the boy express; Pansy and Millicent to narrow their eyes at the two of them, glares darting back and forth, honing to their every move like a bloodhound; Nott to smirk ever so slightly, glancing at them with knowing; while Crabbe and Goyle were the ones who appeared the most out of the loop with genuine bewilderment. Toushirou expected a change in behavior, although from Blaise and Nott's reaction — _they were in the know_ , as he smoothly nodded at the greeting, clinking his flute at the blonde's.

"Thank you for having me, Draco."

The blonde smiled softly. It was so fake. "The pleasure is mine."

Unable to stand the sight of faux happiness at the moment, the captain turned to Blaise, who regained his usual state of being. "I presume it was done?"

"Without a hitch."

Humming in approval, Hitsugaya nodded, taking a drink of his flute. Senses a bit dulled, he was soon cornered, Blaise's mother and newest husband escorting her. Blaise sent an apologetic look through his eyes before introducing his mother and step-father. "And this is my friend from Hogwarts, whom I believe you are aware of."

"Indeed, darling." Blaise's mother was a beauty, unblemished mocha skin that her son inherited with long eyes framed with lush lashes. Her voice was the sound of smooth velvet, as Hitsugaya brushed his lips over her offered hand. "My, aren't _you_ a looker yourself, my boy. Have you been betrothed already?"

"No, madam." Toushirou replied politely, adjusting his hold over his flute. "My grandfather wishes for me to be focused in my studies and position before I consider anything of the sort. My father has the same sentiments."

"I see, how wise of them." She smiled with red lips, all of aware that this was gather information. "Where is your family? They should be here to join in the festivities!"

"My father is currently bedridden and my grandfather, preoccupied. I would hope that their absence would not disturb nor offend you. It was merely circumstantial." And that was how the night continued, with polite conversations and fine drinking until the night aged like fine wine. Until the plan moved to the main event.

One by one, the adults at the event dropped like flies from the poisoned drinks served, laced with the Draught of Living Death. By the time Nott's father had realized it, Toushirou was upon him at an instant, knocking him out with a swift blow to the neck. Gathered at a temporary sheets at the center of the hall, the eight of them stood over them all, eyes turning to Malfoy and Hitsugaya. "Crabbe, Goyle. Get the servants to clean this place up. Pansy, Milly. The supplies I had asked of you if you would please. Nott, Blaise. Assist them."

Orders given, the six of them dashed out of the room, leaving the two in silence.

"What now?" Draco asked with a slight frown. He knew that Toushirou had planned this since the beginning of the year to ensure that their parents would be safe but unconscious under the deathly potion. But with so many Death Eaters missing, _anyone_ with half a brain would notice. Therefore, when Hitsugaya told him to do so anyway, Draco had his doubts but did not voice them because he knew that his best friend would not underhandedly use others to cover for the Death Eaters under the Polyjuice Potion. Not to mention being ineffective, as they may have needed to save those persons as well. Hitsugaya refused to elaborate anymore, but he had a cohesive plan. That, within itself was enough for him.

"We draw blood samples and make a body." Hitsugaya said nonchalantly as he clipped on his bluetooth, ignoring the wide-eyed look from Draco. " _ **This is Hitsugaya Toushirou, Captain of the Tenth Division. Requesting to speak to Captain Kurotsuchi Mayuri, Akon.**_ "

Toushirou was silent as Goyle and Crabbe arrived with servants, dispelling with all the drinks and decor with the party. Shortly, the other four also arrived with three bags — blue, green and red. The blue one was opened swiftly, to reveal a large cauldron that was placed in the fireplace, complete with ingredients on the side. Draco frowned at the sight — Essence of Dittany, unicorn blood, jobberknoll feathers, powdered sage, stewed mandrake, mercury, murtlap essence — they all _healed_ in some way. The red contained syringes and empty blood tubes, with plastic covers to ensure that all items were sterile and plastic tubing — along with a small tool kit that was covered with mysterious stains of red. The final green was the most confusing of all, as Toushirou did not open it at all, but rather left it unopened to the side.

Gathering behind their friend and beside Malfoy to get out of the way, they almost missed it when Toushirou switched to English once more. "Yes. I will open it for you. Just enter through the Senkaimon and I will handle the rest."

"Someone's coming?" Crabbe asked.

"Yes. My cousin, Kurotsuchi Nemu, Vice Captain of the Twelfth Division." Toushirou replied, as he ordered Blaise and Nott to follow the instructions that he had in the blue bag — brewing whatever concoction that he needed from the said ingredients. "Crabbe, Goyle. Assist them. Parkinson, Bulstrode and Draco. Stay out of the way."

Pressing a button on his bluetooth, Toushirou grunted an affirmative as a young woman appeared beside him with a burst of speed. She was older than them, but clearly by only a few years — she was well-endowed with hunter green eyes. Her black hair was pulled into a long braid with slightly parted bangs. She was dressed in a collared black robes, with a white obi that was fastened with a blood red cord. Thin white gloves covered her hands as a red choker decorated her neck. She was as expressive as Toushirou, blank as a canvas as she bowed to him almost robotically.

" _ **Hitsugaya-taicho.**_ "

The ice captain nodded at her, gesturing to the contents of the red and green bag. " _ **Kurotsuchi-fukutaicho. I have asked your father to assist me, if you are willing.**_ "

" _ **Hai.**_ " She nodded before walking over to the red bag, taking out the needles and blood tubes with the expertise of a medical doctor. " _ **Please leave it to me.**_ "

Nodding, Toushirou removed his own jacket and rolled up his sleeves, setting to work. A distance away, Malfoy watched in fascination as Toushirou and his cousin drew one blood tube from each adult, before dosing the small incision with a splash of Dittany, to have a total of twelve tubes altogether. By that time, Nott and Blaise had finished the potion. It was sweet and smelled of happiness — to Draco, it was the smell of his mother's perfume, his father's office and to his surprise, the incense of Toushirou's palace — it was almost euphoric. The elixir was silvery white, ethereal and like melted moonstone.

Draco was immediately wary. It was almost a potion that was too good to be true.

Toushirou ignored all of this as he threw the green bag at Nemu. " _ **Inject some of the blood into each one. And then give them to Kurotsuchi along with the blood tubes. The potion will be yours in assisting in control. We do not need a repeat the mess years ago.**_ "

" _ **Sir.**_ " Nemu nodded as she did as she was told, leaving with all three bags.

The moment she had departed and Draco had the servants move the parents to St. Mungo's, the other seven confronted on just what Toushirou had done. Taking a deep breath, he sat back against his own armchair, jacket thrown off beside him. "As you may have suspected, for all your parents to disappear overnight and replaced by sleeper agents would be too tedious and ineffective. Therefore, I sent for my colleague on a favor — to manufacture fakes in place of your parents."

"And the colleague is the girl?" Goyle asked, as Nott elbowed him.

Ignoring the disbelief, he continued, shaking his head at the question. "No. Who I am referring to is her father, he is a scientist as well as my uncle, even though we are of the same rank — we are consistently at odds. Our system is simple in interactions."

"Tit for tat?" Nott guessed, pushing up his glasses.

Toushirou shrugged, it was currently effective. There was no need to change it. "In any case, to do that my uncle required three things from me: a blood sample of the original subjects, faux bodies and the potion I told Nott and Blaise to brew."

"What was that anyway?" Blaise addressed, grimacing at his stained sleeves.

"A potion that is the result of my own experiments." Toushirou drank from his abandoned flute, rolling the wine in his mouth. "It is similar enough to Flamel's Elixir of Life. However, it is more to assist in fusing a fake body with a fake soul."

Pansy held up a hand. "Wait up. How the hell did you even make a fake soul?"

"What did you think the blood was for?" Toushirou asked rhetorically. "The potion takes the closest instructions it can and make the body and soul — and because of the magical gene of purebloods, the body will be resilient enough." _Not that I needed that much blood from them. But I needed something to bribe Kurotsuchi for the reigais._

"And what happens when the copies of the parents go against us?" Malfoy asked, as Toushirou smirked darkly at him. The blonde repressed a shiver.

"You leave traitors to me." The ice captain said merely, as he removed another red bag in his pocket. "They will be dealt with accordingly."

* * *

"We _have to_ talk."

Toushirou rose an eyebrow, tying the sash of his white evening robes. Hair damp from his shower and sporting his hair clip, he opened the door to his room in the manor to reveal Draco, in his own set of grey robes. His hair too was damp, fresher from the water than Toushirou's as he merely nodded before allowing him entry.

With either boy on opposite sides of the bed, Toushirou leaned on the headboard with Draco across. "You wanted to talk, Draco?"

"We need to talk about… _that_. Remember?"

Patiently, Toushirou nodded. "Yes, I remember."

" _Then?_ "

Toushirou rose an eyebrow at him. "What do you mean, ' _then_ '? That should be _my_ question. _You're_ the one who kissed _me_ , Draco. _You_ are the one who needs to explain to _me_ what _that_ was."

Draco blushed darkly. " _But you kissed me back!_ "

It was Toushirou's turn to blush as he scowled. " _Obviously_. But _that_ is not what we are discussing. What we are discussing is _where_ does that leaves us? Are we _friends_? Or are we something _more_? What does our moment last night _mean_? Does it even _mean_ anything? Or was just an _impulse_ , and nothing more?"

The reddening lessened, as Malfoy ran a hand through his face. "Is it necessary to label it? _What_ we are? Or _what_ it was?"

Toushirou looked troubled. And Malfoy knew why. His best friend was logical, rational and operated in a process of cause and effect. Emotions were the exact opposite; illogical, irrational and by no means operated on cause and effect — it was territory he did _not_ like and was _not_ comfortable with. But with Hitsugaya's address of it, it meant that he was also curious and uneducated on the subject. He was just as new to feelings and emotional stunts as he. _Lovely._

"No." Toushirou said finally, fixing his silver sash. "But we need to establish what exactly it was and how we feel." _Whatever that meant._

"It was a _kiss_." Malfoy established firstly. "And I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable with the suddenness of it. I _just_ …"

"Just _what_ …?" Toushirou ushered gently, hugging a pillow to his abdomen.

"… wanted to cross _that_ line." Malfoy finished as Toushirou tilted his head.

"' _That line'?_ What line are you talking about, Draco?"

"The _line_ that you draw when you think someone is getting too close!" Draco shouted, annoyed now as he pinned the captain with an angry glare. "You keep them all at shoulder length and don't let them get closer to you because you're afraid that they'll leave. You did that with Potter and his posse! Always protecting and even saving their lives, yet you don't lift a finger to insult them! Your insults are advice! They think you're out to kill them when you're actually the one to save them! All because you think that if they figure out you're helping them, they'll mean something to you. Not to mention me and the others! Until when will you do the same to me?!" By this time, the blonde was scowling, angry and annoyed for his closest friend.

"You… self-sacrificing prick!" Stunned, Toushirou nearly missed dodging Draco's punch to the face, catching it in his palm. Only to double over as he took a knee to the abdomen. Winded, the captain used his momentum to roll, taking the blonde with him. Pinning his legs with his own, one hand locked the blonde's wrists above his head as the transfer glared back him, just as annoyed, hair sticking up is a tousled mess.

"As much as I would like to reply with debilitating insults right back at you, Draco, I will not waste my breath. I admit it, you are correct." The blunt admission surprised the blonde, to which the captain caught, raising a brow. " _What?_ You didn't think I'd know?"

Draco glared at him. "Then why do you keep doing it?"

"Because it _works_." Toushirou glared right back, just as frostily. "And frankly, _I don't care._ I don't care if Potter and his friends do not know what I am doing, whether it be for them or not. All that matters to me and all that care about it, is that the results are what I _want_ it to _be_. If I required the need for others, I would. If not, then that's what plans are for, Draco."

"Then why do you keep doing it to me? Keeping me in the dark like them?" Draco hissed, snarling almost as his grey eyes glowed with hidden hurt. "I'm not _Potter_."

"You're not." Toushirou agreed, deadpanning. "You're not most certainly Granger or Weasley neither."

"Do not compare me to that Mudblood and blood traitor. _Spare me._ " Malfoy panned back as Toushirou snorted, unrelenting as the blonde squirmed under him. He was ignored.

"And allow you the right to die? I'm not that merciful."

" _Cute_. So, will you let me cross it? _The line?_ "

Toushirou stared at him. "I don't know."

Malfoy stopped struggling. "What do you mean, _you don't know?_ "

" _Are you deaf?_ I said, 'I don't know.'"

Feeling like all the air in his body leaving him, Draco slumped against the mattress, facepalming at internally. "When will you know?"

Toushirou shrugged. "I don't know."

"I hate that answer."

"It's the one you've got."

"I hate you."

"Your actions beg to differ. Do you still need me to remind you of last night?"

Malfoy was annoyed and said the first thing that came out. " _Enlighten me._ "

Taken aback by the challenge, teal eyes met the defiant steel ones head on before lingering down to full pink lips, and before he knew it, met them with his own. It was longer than the one from yesterday, not lingering and full of hesitance. Instead, it was demanding, colored with more than just want as Toushirou felt Draco gasp lightly against his own. Grunting, Toushirou deepened it, taking advantage of the moment of weakness of the blonde under him, _tongue_ —

" _Pére!_ Have you se— What the _absolute_ fuck?" At the sound of the bedroom door swinging open and Nott's cursing, the twosome looked up to see their progeny, Toushirou cross at being interrupted while Draco was doing a great impression of a cherry.

Nott was gaping like a whale shark in the midst of feeding, while Blaise had a deer-in-the-headlights expression on his face beside him, Crabbe and Goyle hiding behind them with peeking hands and red faces. Pansy looked at the verge of tears like a proud mother (was that a _camera_ …?) while Millicent was two leagues ahead of her, on floor and bleeding from her nose. To Goyle's credit, he recovered first. "E-E-Excuse the inter-r-ruption! P-Please continue!"

And with a slam, the two of them were alone again, Crabbe carrying Millicent.

"You do realize that we will never hear the end of this now."

" _Oh, shut up._ _You're_ the one who kissed _me_ this time."

"And you're the one who didn't lock the door."

"Like I could have predicted _this_ would happen!"

" _Please_ , you were looking to repeat it to see if I would after I said that I didn't know."

"You played along?"

"Only because I wanted to know."

"Whether or not, I would cross the line?"

"Mhm."

" _So?_ "

"You already crossed it." The white-haired boy breathed into the shell of his ear, rolling off with a small smirk as Draco glared at him. _Tease._

* * *

AN: Here are extras that were originally included in the story but I decided against it.

Malfoy's talk with Blaise and Nott after the events of Chapter 6:

* * *

Blaise, for obvious reasons to any pureblood, did not get into anyone's business unnecessarily. It was stressful for both himself and the other, and not mention, it was really _none_ of his business. He had enough troubles of his own, thank you very much. Appearances were everything, after all. How in the world would he take care of his own complexion if he did not care for his own well being?

Therefore, when Malfoy appeared in the dorm after Slughorn's Christmas party looking more lost than when he had learned his father was in Azkaban, he didn't pry. Instead, he asked what he believed to be a neutral question with a curious Nott beside him.

"Where is Hitsugaya?"

Draco Malfoy flinched. _Welp. That plan was out the window._

Unlike him, Nott did not have the tact to not continue. _Unbelievable._ And he called Blaise, the one without a filter. "Did something happen between you and Hitsugaya?"

Malfoy groaned into his hands instead of replying, face a beet red. "Mhm mmhm mphm _*muffled*_ ugh mhm _*mumble*_ mphm."

Theodore was not amused. "I do not speak faceplant, Draco. _Spit it out._ "

" _I-kissed-him-and-now-he-hates-me-for-sure-even-though-he-said-he-was-still-here-whatever-that-meant_ —Why does this happen to me?!" Blaise blinked, slowly deciphering the individual words in the scramble of word salad. After a minute, the mocha-skinned boy turned to the glasses-wearing one, asking if he had heard the same thing as him. A nod. _Okay then._

Draco had a grey eye on them, ready to bolt at the slightest indication of a wrong move. Nott spoke first, meeting the gaze with cold brown eyes, stern. "Explain, Draco. _Coherently_ and _succinctly_. We cannot help you if you don't."

Obliging warily at first that died a slow death as time passed, Blaise had to admit, it was similar to pulling teeth when it came to getting on what happened. But in the end, with one interruption from Crabbe and Goyle who were stuffed from raiding the Dining Hall, before promptly kicked out into Common Room, the two were caught up as to why their friend looked like a ripe tomato by the very end.

"Okay." Nott said firstly, taking a breath before scrutinizing Draco. "What are you intentions to Hitsugaya?"

Malfoy stared at him before frowning. " _Intentions?_ "

"Do you like him?" Blaise supplied bluntly.

The blonde made a choking noise before blushing. " _H-How would I know?!_ "

Theodore and Zabini were unfazed by the outburst. "You're the only one who knows, Draco. Blaise and I can't tell you that. Only you know how you're feeling." The implied ' _duh_ ' was there.

"Is that the issue here?"

" _You_ tell us. What do you want from him?"

"I want… to be friends with Toushirou." Draco admitted, frowning as he if he had finally realized that he should have been annoyed. "Like he was for _me_. To be by his side and help him. Because Merlin knows even though he's _brilliant_ , he has little regard for himself and doesn't take credit when it is clearly due." He suddenly had the urge to punch his best friend. _Ugh_. This was _so_ confusing. "We need to talk. The _both_ of us."

Huffing, Nott threw a pillow at him, all of them in crinkled suits after hours of talking. " _Amen_ to that. Children don't like it when their parents are fighting."

"Do you want me to discipline you, Nott?"

"Touchy without your hubby, aren't you?"

" _Die_."

"Child abuse."

"It's not abuse if it is not reported."

"I'm not into Stockholm syndrome."

"Who said that you would be killed by me?"

As Nott and Malfoy continued their squabble, Blaise merely turned over and slept. His part here was done. Like Nott said, when the mother and father are fighting, the children were certainly not pleased. And this makeshift family was no different.

* * *

Toushirou's talk with Matsumoto after Chapter 6:

* * *

Matsumoto looked at her captain with a wary eye — a rare sight for the voluminous woman when in the same room in peaceful times. But nonetheless, it was present. Yesterday was the last day of school, the first day of winter holidays for the wizards and witches of Hogwarts and she had just come from picking him up. The first sign of something was weird, was when he called her and told her to meet him at Hogwarts instead of the train station, saying that they were going to travel through Senkaimon to the palace. The second was his demeanor when she arrived — he was _distracted_ , eyes lost in thought rather than sharp and calculating; it startled her, seeing how _young_ he looked. The third and final sign for now, was that he had not asked of how their division was doing in his absence. _Not once._

Seated at his chambers, she was outstretched in comfortable red robes while her superior was across the table of sake and paperwork, dressed in sea green robes, the hair pin that she gave him for his birthday, catching the candlelight.

Sipping the alcohol slowly, she noted something else. Her captain was on the same page for the last forty minutes. Her silvery blue eyes closed. _Okay, enough of this._

" ** _Taichou._** "

Hitsugaya hummed distractedly, his brush still moving through the paper.

" ** _Did something happen at school?_** " _Seeing how he was fine when he left, it must have been school related at Hogwarts._

The brush paused for a split second before continuing. _Okay, that was a yes._

" ** _Did you get in a fight?_** " He stared at her as she shrugged the both of them well aware that he could hold his own in a fight with _utter_ ease. _So, a definite no._

" ** _Did you go on a date?_** " The brush continued to move, unfazed. _Nope._

" ** _Did you get in some trouble with someone?_** " The fingers hesitated, but continued. _Mostly no, but most likely, whoever her captain fell out with and him were not talking for now. But still nada._

" ** _Did you bite someone's head off?_** " He ignored her. _Zilch._

" ** _Did you kiss someone?_** " She asked exasperatedly. _There was no way that her captain could initiate a kiss, he was way too—_ **Holy Soutaichou** , _he_ ** _did_** _._ Jaw dropping, she stared at her blushing captain who broke his brush, the paperwork he had been working on for an hour ruined in a blink with a very large mark in reaction to her question. Ignoring the paperwork, she knocked over her _precious_ sake and took her captain by the shoulders and stared at him down straight in the eye with a look that screamed: _Tell. Me. EVERYTHING. NOW._

And so, he did. He told her of his new House, his friends, his so-called betrothed and last night's conversation, both parts to which he was red in the duration of and by the time he was done, she had only one thing to say to him. " ** _You need to talk to him._** "

The captain rolled his eyes, paperwork and sake long abandoned. " ** _I am aware, Matsumoto. I am supposed to arrive there tonight._** "

" ** _I am not referring to that, taichou._** " The strawberry blonde frowned. " ** _I mean, you need to talk to him alone. The both of you are confused and don't know what the other thinking._** _(Not to mention your lack of social skills.)_ ** _You both need to be locked in a room and talk to one another, to clear the air._** "

" ** _What could have spurred this on anyway, Matsumoto?_** " Toushirou frowned, legitimately confused. He didn't do _feelings_. Emotion was _irrational_ and _reckless_. Loyalty, anger, frustration, hatred, bloodlust, familial love, friendship, even relations with enemies — he _understood_. But anything beyond, it was a frontier he did _not_ explore. One, for obvious reasons, he was in the body of child, his development was yet to finished. Two, he was aware that people loved one another and would go further in physical contact in systematics once in a great enough friendship, but under the watch of Unohana, he was well protected and guarded in not allowing _anything_ of the sort for him to experience.

Besides, he had a job to do. He had _no time_ for such relations.

His lieutenant shook her head at him. " ** _I cannot answer that question, taichou. Only your friend can._** "

" ** _B-But I reciprocated._** " He whispered, unaware that his fingers traced the healed lips, teal eyes troubled. " ** _What does that mean, if I replied in kind?_** "

 _Oh, taichou._ She breathed mentally, holding back the urge to envelop him in her arms. Sometimes, like everyone else, she forgot how _young_ her captain really was. A century, perhaps, but he was still young and held a special innocence.

" ** _Let me ask you something else, taichou._** " She evaded, to which her superior no doubt saw. " ** _How do you feel when you are with him? Are you happy to see him? Do you prefer his company over others? Or do you not feel any of these things?_** "

Hitsugaya took a moment to consider.

 ** _How did he feel when he was with Malfoy?_** _He was fine. He didn't feel that different than with the others._ _Was he suppose to?_

 ** _Was he happy to see Malfoy?_** _Perhaps, whenever Draco had arrived, he was relived. But that could have been because of their other friends and their antics._

 ** _Did he prefer his company over others?_** _Certainly, Malfoy was more informed and more aware then the others when it came to his plans — obviously, he would prefer the blonde over speaking plans with Crabbe or Goyle._

 ** _Did he not feel any of these things?_** _Was it a legitimate answer to say that he did not know how he felt? Was… it okay?_

 _What did how he feel have to do with anything anyway?_

Feeling more confused than he was in a while, Toushirou lamented on why he hated emotions. There was _never_ an answer — _no_ rational conclusion or process, it was all _subjective_ and _how_ an individual _felt_. And due to the individuality of souls, no one experienced anything exactly the same as another. Therefore, no one had a definite answer to what it was he _felt, if he did at all_. _How would he know?_ He knew that he loved Hyorinmaru, his closest friend and Hinamori, his adopted sister — both were important to him and his heart. _Like anyone else, it was obvious but when did he realize this?_

With Hyorinmaru, it was when he first achieved Shikai. _This_ , he was certain.

With Hinamori, it was the first time she had come home hurt from the Academy. And this, he _knew_.

With Malfoy… _he didn't know._


	8. Seek, Evade and Intel

Chapter 8: Seek, Evade and Intel

Christmas was spent busily placing Death Eaters in St. Mungo's under pseudonyms, replacing them with exact copies of reigais that lived and died by Toushirou's command and training the others in self-defense. The last one took the longest. Under the guise of a sleepover of pureblood children at Malfoy Manor, Toushirou was always the first rise, internally cursing for the gigai needing sleep as he did. Glancing at the other body on the bed, he idly noted the soft snores and carefully slipped out of the covers, moving to the bath to change out of his night robes. Ever since the scare of Bellatrix's sudden visit (ironically enough, all of them but Draco were stuffed into a closet, _go figure_ ), Draco had fits of nightmares that woke up all of them in the blonde's wing until Toushirou arrived to calm him down, which ended in the blonde bunking with him after a _very_ crass comment from Blaise. Toushirou threw him out the window before locking it with a sounding _click_. It was a little past an hour until he allowed him back in, sullen-faced.

Dressing himself in a black shirt with the collar popped and jeans that ended in his favorite boots, wand in the right boot and his zanpakuto strapped to his back, he was ready. On the canopied bed, Draco was in dreamland, blissfully sleeping away his exhaustion when a sudden kick made him fall face-first on the very unforgiving floor.

"Wake up."

Groaning, the blonde sleepily wrapped himself like a burrito with the blankets as he glared blearily at Toushirou's general direction. "What time is it?"

"Dawn." Toushirou said before slamming the door, knowing that the sudden noise would make Blaise wake up in a grumpy tirade of beauty sleep and Nott shoot to his feet in reaction next door. Waking up Crabbe and Goyle was Nott's job, as the two muscleheads learned the hard way why Toushirou was not someone they wanted to wake up to after they were doused in glacial water that _stung_. Pansy and Millicent were awakened by maids, as proper courtesy to the ladies (Nott swore never to enter the _sacred_ grounds — There was a _shrine_ … to _things_ … things that _no_ man should _see_ … — Toushirou didn't even want to know.).

But within half an hour, his friends and himself were gathered at the back of the manor, in a lovely expanse of cut grass that spanned several acres. Dressed similarly to him, in casual but expensive clothes, the others grumbled as Toushirou threw a set of bronze bracelets and anklets at each of them. "Put these on. They're weights, and will help you gradually as they are charmed to grow heavier based on your progress."

"Even us?" Pansy asked, referring to her and Millicent as they clipped them on.

Toushirou nodded. "You cannot take them off unless I allow you to. And it shouldn't be much as of today, about a few kilograms or so."

"A _few_?" Nott frowned as he thought it was _very_ heavy. "This is _more_ than a few."

Toushirou was unsympathetic. "Get over it."

Malfoy nodded as he shrugged at the six's disbelief. "Remember how I said I almost died?"

Nods were given.

"It was on the first day."

Toushirou rolled his eyes. "That was because _you_ decided to run into the street when I _told_ you stay on the grounds. It was not _my_ fault you almost got run over by a car."

"To die by a contraption commandeered by a Muggle." Malfoy sniffed as the others made similar expressions of disgust. "A shameful way to die."

The captain ignored them. "In any case, we will begin with light exercises…"

After a little over an hour, Pansy and Millicent were gulping down goblets of water, Goyle and Crabbe were worshipping the porcelain bowls in their respective bathrooms, Nott was unresponsive for the last half hour, while Blaise was sulking over ruined clothes after falling several times. In the other hand, Toushirou had yet to even have the need to breathe heavily as Draco chuckled at his friends' utter lack of fitness, sweaty but overall fine.

"We might need to tone it down a little if we want them to live." Draco chuckled, drinking from a goblet of his own as Toushirou rose a brow.

"This was only light exercises. Lower the level anymore, they would be dead anyway." Toushirou growled out. It was that day that his friends found out that Toushirou's physical prowess was _beyond_ human capabilities — he ran without tiring, moved lithely without a sound when performing acrobatics, was able to drop kick open a wooden table in a moment's notice, strikes at fatal points automatically before retracting as if he needed to remind himself that nonfatal was a rule. Even in magic, Toushirou displayed why he was the greatest of their generation, countering them in duels with swift wandless magic and jinxes that were particularly paralyzing. Eventually and gradually, they found their advantages and disadvantages.

Pansy was insanely creative in attacking with jinxes and curses, with no real surprise as they were her favorite, constantly tormenting her victims at school. She was thin and had little muscle, but that made her light and fast as she could sprint in swift getaways. Her mental defenses were average but her attacks were relentless, _biting_ and snide — somehow able to quickly pinpoint weaknesses in defenses to sink her fangs to inject a destructive poison. Crabbe and Goyle succeeded in brute strength as that increased under Hitsugaya's watch but were quickly humbled after the captain had beaten both of them blindfolded. Toushirou lectured that strength was only one aspect to victory, and that strength without the brains to think it through would come back to kill them if they were not careful. The white-haired male looked at Crabbe when he said this, as he taught. Unsurprisingly, the brutes were masters of curses and unpleasant spells but Crabbe found that he had a talent for charms, which Millicent assisted him in. Millicent, similar to Pansy, held less muscle and physical prowess than most of the boys, but had a knife on hand as she was a master of sabotage, constantly equipped with small bottles of various potions and items to ensure her own victory. She was swift in reactions, countering with the share of hand-to-hand Toushirou taught as he nodded at her progress. Nott was the least athletic of the boys, beaten by Millicent in running, but was a Potions Master on par with Draco, who was only second to the captain in their group. He was intelligent and quiet, a trait that Hitsugaya appreciated as he played chess with him. Lastly, Blaise was just as accomplished in Potions and Dark Arts, as Toushirou thought they were needed (all of them succeeded it anyway), and was decently athletic but lacked stamina. Enough to hold his own, but not for long.

Draco, in the other hand, succeeded in Defence Against the Dark Arts with Toushirou along with the other subjects, only lacking in self-confidence. Toushirou rubbed his eyes, after his internal breakdown of his friends' abilities. The captain took refuge on the roof, as it was a free day when an unfamiliar reiatsu appeared in his radar. Shunpoing to the front of the manor, he narrowed his eyes to see a tall man, frowning severely as he made his way to the doors. _Rufus Scrimgeour._

 _The new Minister of Magic?_ Sephiroth blinked, before frowning. _What does he want here?_

 _I do not know._ Toushirou replied, gaze following as the stern faced Auror made his way into the manor. The last time he had conversed with the Minister was before the end of the previous year, with some of his colleagues, establishing in that Hitsugaya had no intention to be a symbol for the Ministry, nor in any obligation in assisting them. The same was said of Voldemort's side, Toushirou assured them, as he had no intention of helping much of anyone unless it was integrated in his plans in someway. And knowing the begrudging agreement of the Minister then, he was not keen in allowing Hitsugaya be the one to choose the fate of the West with a whim of his mind.

Dancing over the roof tiles with a swift burst of speed, he appeared on the chandelier of the main hall, where he spotted Malfoy reading over some papers with a cup of coffee beside him, accompanied by Blaise and Nott. Pansy and Millicent were reading by the fireplace, several books surrounding the girls as they giggled every once in a while. Crabbe and Goyle, on the other hand, gobbled down pastries and snacks of the like, as the uncivilized persons that they were.

It was not long until Rufus Scrimgeour made his appearance.

"Minister Scrimgeour." Malfoy addressed with a risen brow, a habit he had picked up from Hitsugaya. "What brings you to my humble home this morning?"

"Ah, young master Malfoy." Rufus nodded stiffly, it was well-known that Lucius was a Death Eater. "I apologize for my sudden intrusion without invitation. I am here to see one of your guests over the holidays, Mr. Hitsugaya."

Draco kept his composure as he tilted his head ever so slightly. "Who informed you that he was my guest?"

"The Ministry makes it her business to be aware of all prominent figures in both location and status." Ignoring the quip on the Dark Lord's whereabouts, courtesy of Nott who was silenced with a glare from Malfoy, Rufus was tight-lipped. "May I see him?"

"It is not for me to decide." Malfoy shrugged as he looked up to the chandelier, all following his gaze to blink at the sight of a lounging Hitsugaya, swaying slowly with the hanging light he was on as earbuds covered his ears. As if feeling eyes on him, the teal eyes looked down to meet with Rufus Scrimgeour's, colored with mild surprise. Pulling out a bud, he twirled it idly before addressing the minister.

"This is a surprise. It has been a while, Minister Scrimgeour." Shunpoing, the captain appeared before the Minister, unmoved earbuds, blade, and all. "What brings you here to Malfoy Manor?"

"I would like a moment to speak to you in private, if you would be so kind."

"Whatever it maybe, feel free to speak of it here." Toushirou replied, removing his earbuds to rest over a shoulder. "I have no qualms in speaking before the current company."

Eyeing the progeny of known Death Eaters, Scrimgeour had no choice but to acquiesce. He then began to ask if Toushirou would publicly ally himself to the Ministry and raise morale, reassuring the general public of the order that the Ministry had if the elusive captain and young student of Japan would do so. As the stern Minister and former Auror continued, Toushirou noted the expressions of his company — Blaise and Nott were exasperatedly angry if the stiffness of their posture was anything to go by, Crabbe and Goyle seemed to mildly sense the growing discontent in the room as they squirmed, Pansy and Millicent were no longer reading as their glares could burned the books, while Malfoy was cross, opinion clear. But Hitsugaya allowed the Minister to finish, he travelled all this way, after all. The least he could was let the man say his piece.

"Have you spoken to Harry Potter of this?" Toushirou asked, putting his media player (a gift from Ukitake) away. "Surely, he would have been a better suited person for this problem of yours." _Better pawn, was what he meant but he wasn't going to say._

"I have already asked Mr. Potter." The Minister frowned severely as Toushirou cupped his chin, in a move of genuine mystification.

"And you _allowed_ him to do as he pleases, without repercussions of his refusal? How _docile_ of you. I regress, even _he_ could see that the Ministry will only ask him for assistance and not reply in kind. Or had you _forgotten_ what you had done to him under Umbridge's magnificent watch?"

Rufus Scrimgeour's beady eyes narrowed. " _Excuse me?_ "

Hitsugaya sighed, as if obliging a very stupid child. "At least with Harry Potter, you had _some_ level of control if you wished to appeal to him — show him victims of Voldemort to incite sympathy, invoke nationalism, or even a sense of reckless justice by bringing up his godfather or parents' death. But with _me_ ; my family is in the East ( _as far as they knew_ ), I have no loyalty to the West and am less than disinterested at the death of others."

" _Disinterested?!_ " Scrimgeour echoed. " _Lives_ are being _lost_ —!"

"What of it?" Hitsugaya asked, looking bored as the atmosphere turned cold. "Death is a part of life. Besides, _who_ was it that deluded themselves into thinking that Voldemort was dead when he was terrorizing the students of Hogwarts? The _very_ government that sworn to protect wizards and witches, who even went to lengths of slander and propaganda." The ice captain released an amused chuckle. "It is a _wonder_ that you have yet to be overthrown. Though I suppose that is _one_ thing you have done correctly with your lies."

The Minister opened his mouth to retort, hand itching for his wand but Hitsugaya stopped him with words that made his blood run cold. "And for that, I _assure_ that you will pay in _full_ for. If not by me, then Harry Potter will suffice in cleaning you all up."

* * *

The return to Hogwarts was uneventful as Toushirou and the others went about their daily activities of classes and homework with a new accessory by the name of Harry Potter. To cover up their pre-holiday… _excursion_ … Toushirou placed an illusionary charm, to fool Potter into seeing what he wanted and suspected to see, rather than what he truly was seeing. Apparently, what he saw was the two of them exchanging vague words, before arguing vehemently over what was the more logical move regarding the Dark Lord.

Either way, they did nothing to go out of their way to convince him of otherwise.

"How long do you think he'll follow us?" Blaise asked quietly, lying in the shade as the afternoon sun basked over the January day. The others were sprawled just the same, having finished with classes or were ditching. "He does have that cursed map."

"You know of the map?" Toushirou asked, back against the base of the tree as he wrote up plans.

"Mhm." Nott hummed, half-asleep as he opened half-lidded eyes, glasses beside him. "We used to do games after Third Year where we would sneak into Gryffindor and try to find intel, not taking anything. One of the most productive finds, other than Potter's invisibility cloak."

"I see." Toushirou replied flatly, scribbling another line. "Does he not have any classes to go to?"

"You do too." Malfoy murmured lazily, head pillowed by the transfer's leg.

"I can ditch." Toushirou huffed, twirling his pen with a furrowed brow. "Potter cannot afford to do the same. Seeing how he has yet to master Apparition. I knew how to do that after reading a book on it."

Multiple pairs of eyes stared at him.

"Seriously?" Goyle voiced as the transfer nodded, eyes on his plans.

"Then why are you even _in_ school?" Nott asked, propping up his head. "You obviously know the curriculum, enough to be at NEWT level and it's not like you're from here. So, why are you here, not that we don't want you here or anything, but isn't it — a waste of time?"

Everyone was awake now as they awaited for the reply.

"Not necessarily." Toushirou answered finally as the cold winter winds made their hair dance. "Grandfather ordered me to be here and I believe that he has his reasons, because he was not the Head of our House for nearly several centuries for no reason. So, _no_. It is not a waste of time for me to be here."

"Back up." Millicent said, sitting up from her place beside Pansy, who was secretly taking pictures. (Do we have enough for a photo book? No. WE _NEED_ VALENTINE'S DAY PICS. _YEEESS_.) "Did you say ' _several centuries'?!_ "

Toushirou nodded without explanation. "Yes."

" _The hell?_ How does he look so… er… _young_?" Pansy asked, confused. "How old are you, Hitsugaya?"

"Same age as all of you. I just age slower. It is a characteristic of my family."

"Oh."

Silence enveloped for a while as the eight of them spent the rest of the afternoon there, summoning a picnic mat and food from the Great Hall when it was time for dinner, all ignoring the curfew after Malfoy erected an invisibility barrier to conceal them. Harry Potter left around afterwards, mostly to go off and tell on them. But Toushirou was not keen on having Snape cover up their tracks _too_ much — _some_ trouble was fine, too much was just asking for something to go wrong.

So, when his dorm room was unceremoniously invaded by McGonagall and Snape, half an hour later; he was less than pleased, he was in the midst of a war. The boys had the sleepover to themselves this time (more like being caught with the girls in a male side of dorm was a _no-no_ ), beds pushed together and curtains pulled into three makeshift forts; Blaise and Crabbe at one, Nott and Malfoy at another, and finally, Goyle and Hitsugaya at another — it was _war_. They were neck-to-neck as the duos seemed to counter one another, each with one partner down by an almost consecutive _team kill_. Toushirou was about to nail a flailing Blaise with a fatal pillow to the head, but was intercepted by a sneaking Malfoy, who decided to take out the larger threat first with a wave of his sheet whip. But the captain was formidable as he put up his pillow to block the could-have-been crippling blow, before backflipping away. It did not spare Blaise however, as he was taken down with a consecutive effort of the parents, as the whip snagged his ankle instead — a pull to the blonde and a smashed pillow (volleyball style) later, Blaise was down for the count, leaving only the parents to duke it out.

Just when Toushirou had Malfoy at his mercy after pulling the hidden sheet under the blonde, making him trip and fall face-first to a face full of pillow to cushion his fall to give the husband his victory but the wife was not going down willingly. Propping himself up by the knees and elbows to not touch the fatal pillow, Malfoy cursed as Toushirou curled his legs over his abdomen and hands pulled to exposing his neck to touch the pillow.

" _Yield._ " Toushirou commanded, brandishing his own sheet whip threateningly.

" _No_." Draco spat back. Like _hell_ he would.

Toushirou sighed like he expected the answer. "Very well."

With a flick of his wrist, Toushirou steadied himself as the whip wrapped over Draco's wrist like a starving python before it was pulled back — making the both of them fall, Draco dying first as he took the pillow torso-first before Toushirou rolled off into another, both breathing faster than usual.

And cue the entrance of their guests, a scene it was to behold.

Dressed in his favorite charcoal robes, Draco Malfoy was sprawled on the floor of the dorm was several sheets under him along with a pillow, face red from exertion as it appeared to be buried in a pillow, to mention that exposed bent leg that glowed with a thin sheen of sweat. Off to the side, Toushirou Hitsugaya leaned against the side of a bed, not a few inches from the blonde, his pristine turquoise robes crumpled from activity as he sported a pink tint on his cheeks, hair drooped with a hair clip that caught in the intense pillow fight, glinting playfully. A pillow was propped behind him as a sheet was tied to his wrist, which was connected to Malfoy's — it was a lovely picture ( _… was that a flash, in the corner?_ ) to walk into.

Goyle, Crabbe and Nott were behind the safety of the forts, unseen ( _of course_ ) while Draco and Toushirou didn't want the body of Blaise to get in the way of their battle, they (rather _harshly_ ) moved him in the Common Room.

Snape was unfazed while McGonagall looked utterly scandalized.

"M-Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Hitsugaya, what in _Merlin's_ _name_ are you two doing?!"

Naturally, after a simple explanation of an intense pillow fight, the boys and the girls (who woke up to the commotion) frowned at the reason they were practically interrogated of their whereabouts at the dead of night.

"You're saying, Professor McGonagall, because of the word of _one_ student who was _outside after curfew_ , you decided to find out where we were, only to find us here." Blaise said annoyedly, his blindfold on his forehead. He was more upset because he insisted in beauty sleep religiously. (Pillow fights, however, were a matter of _manly_ pride.)

"In Newman's terms, _yes_ , Mr. Zabini." Snape drawled.

"Can we go back to bed now?" An annoyed Slytherin girl said, her evening gown exposing a milky shoulder.

"Yes." Snape replied with a twirl of his robes to McGonagall. " _Can_ _my_ students go back to bed, Professor McGonagall?"

The Transfiguration professor hardened her jaw but said nothing, as it was her folly — nodding. " _Yes_ , I apologize on behalf of the student. I shall see to his punishment for such inconvenience he has caused your House."

Toushirou was the first to head back to the dorms, the rest following behind when he paused in bare feet. His hair ornament dangled with his movements, the silvery plates and braid gleaming in the light of the white-blue flames of the fireplace. Teal eyes ominous, he smiled amusedly. "Bid my _gratitude_ to Potter for the _greeting_ , Professor McGonagall. He needs to do _better_ if he wishes to catch _me_."

* * *

After the scare of Ronald Weasley nearly dying from a poisoned mead from Rosmerta that was later revealed to be another attempt in Dumbledore's life, to which Harry Potter came to the rescue with a bezoar, the school needed a moment to breathe and forget the world's problems. And the wizard way to do that was to play a game of Quidditch.

But Hitsugaya's way was to read away, do paperwork, or practice his swordsmanship.

He chose the latter of the three.

Locked up in the Room of Requirement, the captain sliced away at imaginary opponents, conjured by the room as Hyorinmaru, Sephiroth and Pyrrhus were materialized in dragon form. It must have been boring to which from the sidelines for the past few months, but the dragons assured him that they had been fully amused and entertained ever since his joining of Slytherin. Toushirou just eyed them all with mock contempt, but knew that they meant well. If anything ever went too far or too much, they would have intervened. As for the gang, the ice captain merely told Draco to not torment Potter too much over the incident the other night — it traveled like wildfire the morning after, making the snake house sneer at _every_ Gryffindor at the discrimination of House favoritism — but at the utterly diabolic faces of their progeny, he knew that it was no use.

Speaking of no use, Matsumoto was one _lost_ _cause_.

After their conversation, he got her silence but lost his privacy with her as she began exchanging letters with Pansy and Millicent. If he thought the two girls were a _handful_ to understand, he sorely mistaken of the sudden sisterhood that developed when shipping two males together. Even though she told him that she would tear Draco into mincemeat, _rules be damned_ , with Haineko if he ever broke her captain's heart; she was squealed pretty loudly at the pictures that Pansy took of them in secret since they were animated.

One of them nearly took out his hearing. A glance told him all he needed to know as she began to bleed from her nose. _He didn't want to know._

Toushirou cleaved through another opponent with a vertical swing, readying to parrying with another when a shift in the air alerted him of a change in his surroundings. Immediately, the opponents disappeared as the captain redirected his blade to the newcomer, his dragons ready behind him. Only to have Kreacher appear before him.

Toushirou paused his blade before it could behead Kreacher as the house-elf flinched, startled. "Master Hitsugaya!"

Kreacher was loyal to Hitsugaya because he had gifted the fake locket to the house elf, after retrieving it from the blasted hellhole — but in no way, mistreated the house elf into keeping secret his actions. If Potter did not know, he could not demand the answer from the poor elf slave. Therefore, while Kreacher was ordered to work in the Hogwarts Kitchens, it was no matter to take care of Narcissa Malfoy in the summer for Hogwarts was not open. But once school began, it was a problem. Therefore, to up keep the low profile, Hitsugaya was forced to create a Reflective Charm on Kreacher — the charm created a mirror reflection of an individual, with the same features to watch over the family of the Death Eater successors.

"My apologies, Kreacher. I was training when you had arrived." Toushirou waved a hand as a table filled with pastries and tea appeared with accompanied chairs, that the ice captain summoned for the house-elf every time he was in company with him, his dragons relaxing at the non-threat.

"Please do not apologize this elf, Master Hitsugaya." Kreacher toned gravelly as he thanked him for the tea and pastries, eating them slowly and savoring each bite. "Kreacher comes with news, Master Hitsugaya. Kreacher does not like it."

"Oh? Is it due to that free elf that a few others had mentioned?" Toushirou asked, sipping his tea, snapping his fingers to refill the cookies.

"In part. Master Harry ordered Kreacher and that elf watch Master Hitsugaya and Master Malfoy, following the two of ye. He thinks ye and company no good." Kreacher revealed solemnly, swallowing the cookies as he remembers to sip the tea as well. "Kreacher can't not obey new master. _Won't!_ But can't."

"It is okay, Kreacher." Toushirou said gently as he stopped the house elf from trying to hurt himself in his frustration. "It is okay if you cannot disobey Harry Potter. It is no dire consequence to me if you report back to him of my movements and whereabouts."

Kreacher stared at him wide-eyed (as much as he could at least, at his age). The desperate ' _How?_ ' screamed in his eyes as Toushirou set down his tea cup.

"Obey your orders of your master, Kreacher. Because it is for your survival. That is more important than anything else and hold your life close, and to do that, you must obey. And as far as this order goes, I am thankful that you have informed me of this."

"I live to serve, Master Hitsugaya." Kreacher bowed his head as Toushirou waved it aside.

"Do not bow to me, Kreacher." Toushirou met the aged eyes of the house elf with his own turbulent teal green. "Because I have no intention of rising my ego nor am I concerned over this development."

"Why not?" Kreacher blurted out, before slapping his hands over his mouth.

Toushirou released a chuckle, stopping the elf from concussing himself. "Because you and your young companion can only report what you observe, correct; Kreacher?"

"Yes…" The house elf answered slowly, confused before it dawned upon the aged elf. Seeing the confirmed smirk on Hitsugaya's lips, the house elf felt relief pool over his shoulders, free from the burden that the half-blood ordered upon his senile soul.

Upon Kreacher's departure, Toushirou twirled his wand in hand, his tea cup still half-full and his eyes landed on Kreacher's empty one. _So, his Loyalty Potion was a success._

With a combination of elements of Amortentia (rose thorns, Ashwinder eggs, and fairy wings) dragon's blood, horn and claw — Toushirou managed to create a potion that was reminiscent of a Potion version of the Imperius Curse, only with more… _permanent_ results.

 _Now, to know the effects if I were to administer them to the Death Eaters under care in St. Mungo's…_


	9. Rising Tension

Chapter 9: Rising Tension

The weekend was a time of relaxation and to prepare for the following week's onslaught of schoolwork and the eight of them were doing the exact _opposite_ of that. Instead of studying or taking lessons like what students usually did in a productive manner (literally _only_ Hermione), the group of Slytherins were in Diagon Alley in casual clothes instead of their uniforms. As a genius, Toushirou was often bored with classes and instead of wasting of his time, did not attend until tests were conducted now that he was in the N.E.W.T system instead of the O.W.L.S. which required attendance — because that was all that mattered in the end anyway. But for the others, the same could not be said. It wasn't his responsibility — it was technically Malfoy and Nott's but they weren't going to do anything so… _***shoulder shrug***_

In any case, Toushirou told them to do as they wished as he stepped up to the entrance of Gringotts and to meet after an hour at the Leaky Cauldron, in the private parlor that the eight had rented out for the day and night. Crabbe and Goyle went off in a predictable beeline for the ice cream parlor, while Draco went to Borgin and Burkes in Knockturn Alley, followed by Nott and Blaise. After dropping off Pansy and Millicent at Carkitt Market (off a side street near Diagon Alley) to go to Shutterbutton's Photography Studio, Toushirou ignored the bewitching chuckles his way as the girls gripped the film like their lives depended on it.

 _Ignorance is bliss._ Toushirou incanted in his head as he entered the marble building. An hour later, it was truly an effort to continue in that thought as he didn't know whether to be mortified or flattered as Pansy utterly swooned over a newly developed parcel of photos ( _framed and all_ ) as Millicent divided Matsumoto's share — all while Malfoy merely glimpsed at the picture, only to gape like a retarded fish. Smacking the blonde on the forehead to break him out of his funk, he ignored Nott's wiggling eyebrows and Blaise's dry comment if they wished for their progeny to leave. Crabbe and Goyle immediately looked repulsed, faces covered in ice cream.

"Do not make me regret sneaking you all out of Hogwarts." Toushirou threatened, as they all settled — putting aside distractions. "We came here to relax after you all finished your tasks. _Report_."

The girls were first, as per manners. "No change in the situation between the other Death Eaters, they are as immaculate as you said, Pére. No one, as far as I know, thinks that they are even fakes. Not even _him_. But they didn't say anything of any new forces or of the sort."

"And on your end?" Toushirou eyed Crabbe, who removed his lips from the almost finished ice cream, reporting with a grim look.

"They are _wary_ , Pére. Of _you_ , especially. Since you're so unpredictable and don't do anything, unlike the Order. Their plans go far for the dealing with the Order and the Ministry, but you, they're kinda stuck and plan to let Maman deal with you." Toushirou looked amused at that, as he brought a cup to his lips.

"I see." He said finally, before looking at Draco. "And yours?"

"Aunt Bella is keen on meeting you to say the least, to escort you to the Dark Lord." Draco frowned, foot shaking in worry. "But like Milly and Pansy said, it appears she knows nothing of the new so-called weapon that the Dark Lord has attained. Only that it's powerful and that you are familiar with it."

"I am." Toushirou revealed, the tea in his cup shifting in the porcelain, ignoring the eyes on him. "And my father is not pleased with the possibilities of it. As they did nearly destroy our home in an internal rebellion a few years ago, but if my predictions are correct and the timing is accurate, it would be a _small_ matter for me to deal with."

"You alone?" Draco rose a brow.

"Not alone." Toushirou began with a side-eye at the blonde. "But not with any of _you_."

"And why do you think that's going to happen?" Nott asked as all of them took on Malfoy's annoyed expression. "Did you _really_ think we would just let you off _alone_?"

"You _would_ if you all knew better." The transfer glared at all of them, eyes hardened. "The weapons, in question are immune to Western magic, objectively kill upon command and were a match that required me to use my full power to destroy just under a decade ago. And you think that I would just _let_ you all tag along with me?"

Toushirou returned his gaze to his teacup, refilling magically. "I am powerful and perhaps, even _strong_. But I am _not_ arrogant enough to promise that all of you would live if I was fighting all of these weapons along side you all, it would be better for me to cooperate with an acquaintance of mine and keep the rest of you in the sidelines." The six progeny eyed their mother, who shook his head imperceptibly and with a small frown as Toushirou appeared preoccupied with his tea — signaling for them to not pursue the topic.

He knew that Toushirou knew his own limits better than anyone and therefore, if he thought that there was a possibility that they would not all be alive if any of them were not where they should have been, then _so be it_. It was not as if, Toushirou had not completely seated them aside neither, just for these so-called weapons.

"Fine, do it as you planned." Draco relinquished, before changing the topic. "What were you doing in Gringotts anyway?"

"Retrieving some things." Toushirou replied, as he lowered his cup on the table filled with sweets and tea for all. "I neglected to think that they would be useful, a misstep in my part — the perfect lure at the most decisive moment. But for now, it would be best kept aside and unknown for now."

"What time is it?" Pansy perked up, after a small silence.

"A few minutes until afternoon begins, why?" Nott replied, glancing at his watch. "Unless you want to go back for McGonagall's Transfiguration class, I suggest we stay here."

"Not that." Pansy snapped before eyeing the door, her voice lowering to a whisper. " _Something's_ here."

Everyone tensed at the girl's announcement, from Blaise's flinch to Crabbe's quick move to get up, only to be stopped by Toushirou, a finger at his lips for all of them to be silent. With a burst of speed, the captain reappeared outside of the door and the protective barriers to catch a glimpse of a house-elf, eavesdropping. The elf disappeared quickly with a snap of his fingers by the time he had appeared — he was younger than Kreacher and must have been the one that Potter had set free. _No matter._ It was not too much trouble for Potter to know that the eight of them were not in Hogwarts, especially since he was able to give Potter the slip a few days ago — Harry Potter would not bite the bait so quickly once again.

"Toushirou?" Draco's voice called out, muffled through the doorway as he hummed in reply, giving the all clear.

"Who was it?" Nott asked, opening the door as Toushirou obliged.

"Draco's former house elf, it appears that he has been ordered to watch us along with Kreacher under the employment of Potter. But it was expected." The transfer added before anyone could cut in. "Kreacher informed me in secret recently, I had made precautions in accordance already. Forget about it."

Gesturing to the doors with a nod of his head, he smiled softly as the others followed. "I believe we had a day to ourselves to enjoy."

* * *

Draco was not fooled, as expected when the blonde basically tried to corner him in the dormitory during the strategic ploy when the others excused themselves in coincidental plans (Hitsugaya saw it the moment Blaise announced he was going to set aflame some Gryffindors out of boredom with Pansy in the tow. The girl was much _more_ imaginative than to just set aflame persons — as she rolled her eyes at the mocha boy's lack of creativity). In any case, his spouse knew better than to think that he was fooled as he was quickly brought into the interrogation.

"That wasn't Kreacher that was caring for my mother and the other parents." The blonde stated more than questioned. Toushirou was not surprised.

"No, that was a copy and imitation of my invention." The transfer replied with no ounce of brag as the blonde disappeared behind the curtain briefly, tying his sash of his night robe. "I figured that the explanation was irrelevant, seeing as everyone would form their own conclusions at any rate. You included, Draco."

"Leaving me to my conclusions? And if I didn't have any?"

Hitsugaya shrugged, outspread on the sheets, in his usual night attire. "Then you would have asked anyone else to supply it for you. Humans are easily read and predictable in that aspect."

Malfoy snorted, joining his lover as he slowly pulled out the hair pin in the white tresses. Humming under his breath, the captain sighed as the blonde massaged his temples, firm and with light pressure. "You say that like you're not one of them as well."

"Have I ever proclaimed otherwise?"

" _My_ , is that an ego I hear?"

Toushirou cracked open an eye, but was too comfortable to move. "Any respectable person has one, the art is keeping it from being inflated or deflated in time. But back to the point, Draco, I was referring to wizards in general. Due to the magical gene, it is no stretch to categorize us as non-humans."

"Inclusive of the bloodline system?"

"Most likely." Toushirou shrugged without moving his head. "A hierarchy among peers is a fact of life. Nature calls it prey and predator, society calls them classes of high and low, my own society calls it authority and the common wealth. The bloodline system of Muggle-borns and purebloods is just another example."

"Is this the part where I point out that you and I are in the top of that hierarchy?" The blonde sounded amused, finishing his massage as he began to stroke the soft hair instead. "Would others not see the ploy for power?"

Toushirou was unperturbed. "History is written by the winners and who had the power to do so. It is not so uncommon."

"So, then?" Malfoy asked, his face carefully composed. " _What now?_ "

"We _wait._ " Hitsugaya replied, just as expressionless. The teal eyes looked to the windows of thin snowfall. "We can only wait for the bloodshed to come for us and paint our lives red."

As predicted, the days of school passed with terse patience. The lot of them bickered and went to class with deploring boredom, colored with normalcy and growing friendships — Nott playing his role as the elder brother taking care of the younger ones, Pansy and Milly supporting their parents with stalker tendencies, Malfoy and Toushirou ignoring their troublesome children with a light amusement, Crabbe and Goyle causing trouble in an everyday fashion for Blaise and Nott to clean up with bribes and threats, the latter more likely than the former — until one day, Harry Potter marched up to their table at breakfast, face red from exertion and eyes narrowed with clear suspicion in the February morning.

"Hitsugaya. A word, if you can bear it."

Raising a brow to his hairline, the captain studied his guest, motioning a hand for his friends to pause in their retorts to the unwelcome Gryffindor, their Valentine's Day plan-making (missions) interrupted. Potter was tense, hands clammy and loose by his sides, green eyes holding a mixture of anger and… _regret?_ That only issued more curiosity in the captain as he observed the same eyes flicker to his bandaged arm. _Ah, there was his answer. So, Dumbledore saw it fit to speak to Potter of Horcruxes already._

 _Had so much time bypassed already?_

"Toushirou?" A soft hand rested on his shoulder, as he met Draco's concerned steel eyes. Hitsugaya ignored him, teal eyes cold as he turned back to Harry. Standing, he nodded with a curt voice.

"Follow me, Potter. I presume you wish to speak in private."

Harry did not appear to trust his mouth, nodding.

In a classroom free of people and anything able to eavesdrop with reinforced precautions courtesy of the captain, Toushirou nodded for the Boy Who Lived to speak.

"You _knew_." Harry began. "Dumbledore said that you knew that Voldemort had made Horcruxes. That was why he survived when the Killing Curse backfired to him when I was a baby. That there are two left. Voldemort's pet snake and the Hufflepuff cup after you destroyed the one in Slytherin's locket, the tiara belonging to Ravenclaw, and Gaunt's ring."

"Which resulted in this." Toushirou finished, holding up his bandaged arm before shifting on the desk he was perched on. "The backfire of the curse was, _unfortunately_ , unanticipated by both Dumbledore and I; but no matter. You are _aware_ now, that with the destruction of these Horcruxes, your parents' murderer can be _killed_. But only after the other remaining Horcruxes are destroyed."

"The snake and the cup?" Harry supplied as Hitsugaya shook his head.

"Only the snake." _As far as you should know, for now._ "The cup was taken of shortly we entered this school year, I had managed to destroy that Horcrux with the assistance of my colleague and uncle." Hitsugaya mentally cringed at the familial relation to Kurotsuchi in any way. "Your source is a bit outdated."

"How long have you known about _all_ this?" Harry all but demanded, emerald eyes burning.

"Since my first year here." Toushirou shrugged, fiddling with his wand.

"And you didn't tell _anyone?!_ " Harry shouted as Hitsugaya glared at him.

" _No_. Because I had yet to even confirm exactly what it was at the time. After I collaborated with Dumbledore, I managed to plan for the other Horcruxes, just in case they existed. While he investigated on how many there were, for all the both of us knew at the time, there could have been _hundreds_." Hitsugaya rose a brow, eyes approving of the silence. "Therefore, I proposed to Dumbledore to allow me to find them, while he researched on the side; since he was such a well-known figure. The rest, I believe you are aware."

"Then, if you were doing all of this, _why?_ " Harry asked, the sole question that was on his mind since the revelation was made to him. " _Why_ do you, side with the Slytherins? _Why_ do you do all of this and tell me that you _haven't_ made a decision? Haven't you already made one since you've been destroying all of the Horcruxes?"

Toushirou regarded Harry like he was — _Inferior? No, that wasn't it._ It was more like the transfer was something _more_ than human, and he was listening in to the perspective of a mortal. — an ant, squeaking at the larger organism. Like a parent _indulging_ in the whims of a naive child, the transfer explained. "To answer your first question, I have taken _no_ side, Potter. I am on the side that I have always been on, my _own_ ; neither _yours_ nor _Voldemort's_. And to why I have done all of this, was to make _my_ decision, Potter."

"I cannot make an objective decision if one of them is a soul split into seven." Toushirou explained, shrugging. "It is obvious that the tides would be in Riddle's favor if I chose him now, as he is temporarily immortal with his fragmented soul. And you, having the love and protection from your mother as well as the support of your friends, makes you have enough to counter Riddle, otherwise, your death would have been long ago — therefore, if my choice were to be you, the tides would certainly go to your favor."

"That seems to be _equal_ terms to me." Harry gritted out, clear that his thoughts were something else.

Toushirou smirked, sardonic, eyes twinkling. "Do you know how scientists make an objective decision, Potter?"

" _How?_ "

"They weigh _all_ factors and assure that all explanatory variables are _equal_ , to the response. Then make a _prediction_ , a decision of sorts, if you will — to decide which gives them the result that they want." Toushirou answered, as Harry's emerald eyes widened at the sudden appearance of the Slytherin locket over the green tie of the Slytherin. "And for me to make all of the explanatory variables, that are you, Harry Potter and Tom Riddle, I must strip you of _all_ advantages and _then_ … — Hitsugaya opens the locket to reveal a familiar slip of paper that was nearly the undoing of Harry Potter in his Fourth Year. — … _observe_ to make my decision."

Stunned, Harry stared at the contents of locket before it clasped once more, reading his name on the scrawled and burnt parchment. It was Bartemius Crouch Jr. who put that in the goblet — _wasn't_ that what he revealed, two years ago with _Veritaserum?_

Yet the paper was _there_ , mocking him.

The same teal eyes did the same, glowing with arrogance and coy. "Do _not_ assume for a _moment_ that I am _not_ watching your _every_ move, Potter. I _will_ make my _choice_ , rest assured, and it will be when the two of you are at your _most_ vulnerable. _That_ , I can promise you."

* * *

Unable to return to the Great Hall as it was soon time for class, Hitsugaya sighed. The school had for the most part had recovered from Ronald Weasley's apparent poisoning from Slughorn's wine, which was done by yours truly through tampering the wine through a fast-acting poison. Toushirou was the one to _suggest_ the wine be given to Dumbledore at one of the Slug Club gatherings in mild passing. The smallest slight of hand, and the champagne flutes were easily contaminated. But now, Harry Potter was aware of Horcruxes and believes that Voldemort's death was soon if he chose it so.

Dumbledore was aware of his ploy, and agreed begrudgingly.

That much was expected, as he twirled his wand absently, ignoring the dull pains from his fingers from being moved. The curse was _formidable_ , Toushirou gave it that much, eating away from his frozen arm with stubbornness as it had made it past his wrist, making the flesh darken to a dusty purple before blackening like it was rotting away. Draco was aware that he was injured more severely than he portrayed, but unaware of the actual cause. A small smile came to his lips as he thought of what the blonde's reaction would be to the fact that it could kill him — or at least, the gigai.

Slowing in his steps, Toushirou found himself before the Room of Requirement.

Entering with a barren room to welcome him in the darkness, Toushirou gripped his wand before dropping it, crumpling to the ground with a soft sigh, eyes transfixed into the grey ceiling as his arm began to painfully spasm.

 _Master?_ Sephiroth voiced, manifesting before his master's head met the ground, the white locks resting on his lap. _What troubles you so?_

 _Hasn't Hyorinmaru informed you of it?_ Toushirou asked, nearly lidding his eyes, burning into his skull as the wave of pain stopped. _Or rather, had you not suspected what it was by now?_

The young dragon was silent before releasing a cool breath himself. _I awaited for you to come to me, Master. You would inform me in your own words, when you were ready to voice it to me._

 _I am tired._ Toushirou relinquished, lashes dusting his cheeks as he began to speak. _And my plans are coming to an end. It will be tomorrow that Urahara will arrive to give me the device to remove the Horcrux from Harry Potter, who is now aware of them. Dumbledore can no longer ignore the attempts of his life. Voldemort must be impatient at the length it is taking to kill him, and will be rash in his next move. Tia Harribel awaits the reveal of her missing Espada to remove the farce who took him from her. And I am becoming more_ _ **unsure**_ _of my choice as it comes. I have confidence that I would choose but would I make the_ _ **right**_ _one, my dragon?_

Sephiroth breathed outwardly, frost tickling their visages. _I do not know of_ _ **right**_ _nor_ _ **wrong**_ _, Master. I only know of what I am loyal to and those who I care about. I am loyal to you, and have come to care for you as my master. Therefore, whatever you choose, even if the worlds that we are a part of hate us, I will always be by your side. Because I swore myself to you and only you. And I am sure, you know of this for Elder as well._

 _I am aware._ Toushirou hummed. _Sephiroth._

 _Yes, Master?_

" _ **Stay with me, until I fall asleep.**_ " Toushirou ordered in a whisper, hugging his bandaged arm to his chest. _And tell Pyrrhus to come, it has been too long since Hogwarts has seen a dragon upon these grounds._

In the other side of the said school, Draco was visibly distracted in McGonagall's Transfiguration, glancing every once in a while to the exit as if his lover would suddenly Apparate before them. At least then, Malfoy would have been reassured that the transfer was in one piece. But the world was here only to torment him. _Merlin, how long was this blasted class?_

At her vantage point, McGonagall rose an eyebrow behind gold-framed glasses. For the sixth time this hour, Mr. Malfoy had fidgeted and glanced at the entrance to her esteemed classroom; Mr. Blaise and Mr. Nott, in the meantime, were in the midst of a very heated but silent discussion, moods clear from their expressions as Miss Bulstrode and Parkinson were sighing for the umpteenth time, their sights on the lone Draco, with a concerned Goyle and Crabbe behind him. Clearly, this had to do with her missing Slytherin, who was noticeably absent. Her eyes drew to a focused Hermione and an annoyed Ronald, missing a key member of their group as well as she felt a sigh grow on her lips, glancing at the time. It was soon to be break for the upper division students, most of them having the rest of the day off and the other half with classes that really did not call for attendance if one was diligent.

But at this point, that came to a break down of two students that had the ability to do so. And one of them was _not_ here.

A knock and the swing of her classroom doors interrupted the fugue of the room, as the heads to swiveled to see a tall young man. His visage was deceptively youthful, head-half-shaven with the other side with long ebony locks, brushed over in a deliberate mess. He was dressed in a black suit, emphasizing his long legs and broad shoulders, as a burgundy cravat pinned with gold adorned his neck. His only accessory was a golden dragon earring curled over his helix, a gleaming ruby in the cusp of the outer ear. Matching blood-red eyes scrutinized her darkly before relenting the slightest hint, cold and glint with a madness; as one of them sported a very prominent scar, his only blemish. It appeared to be from a beast of some kind.

"I apologize for the interruption." The stranger grunted, his voice rough and colored with deep baritone. "I was hoping to see if I could borrow Draco Malfoy for a moment."

McGonagall frowned as she gestured for the new guest to step out with her. He complied. "May I ask for what reason, Mr…?"

"Pyrrhus, m'am." The stranger supplied, blood colored eyes flickering to meet steel ones in the class. "I am a _friend_ of Hitsugaya and Malfoy, the former's father is an adoptive guardian of sorts — and I'm the newest stray. ( _Ha_.) Hitsugaya seconded for my trial period and therefore, I have been under his wing until his grandfather makes the official decision through our government."

The Transfiguration professor blinked. "Then, what brings you to Hogwarts, Mr. Pyrrhus?"

"Hitsugaya." He said at point blank, ruby eyes glowing with madness as he smirked at her. "Your heavenly guardian is close to making his decision, Professor. You will be needing all the allies you can get."


	10. Cure the Madness

Chapter 10: Cure the Madness

The blonde under his care fidgeted as they walked to the Headmaster's office, making the dragon raise a brow. An hour ago, he was told via ice crystal communication to come to Hogwarts, under their pre-established protocol at the palace by Sephiroth, who was less than articulate in his orders as Toushirou was. _Damned_ ice dragons and their flair for secrets and being more cryptic than a tomb — you'd think after the two troublesome boys got together they would be _easier_ to handle, being on the same page. But _no_ … relationships were another haystack that Pyrrhus did _not_ sign up for.

Nudging the blonde out of his mild fugue, the dragon nodded to the entrance of the Headmaster's office, alone. " _Oi_. You know where your control freak is?"

Draco scowled, crossing his arms in a huff. " _No_. Potter confronted him about something before classes and they went off. Didn't show up for McGonagall's and you know from there. I thought you knew, seeing how he was able to call for you."

"I was just told to get here ASAP, daddy's boy." Pyrrhus shrugged, ignoring Draco's glare. "Your boytoy doesn't really tell anyone very much of what he's thinking. I wouldn't take it too personally if he brushes you off like that, that's in his nature. He's a loner and a careful tactician, the control freak; it's when he's being _reckless_ and _not_ thinking that you should be worried."

"You sound like you're speaking from experience." Draco prodded as the dragon snorted.

"Believe me. Toushirou losing control is the least of your problems for now."

"Why?" Draco asked, grey eyes indicating that he knew there was more to this story. "You say that like it already happened."

"Because, if he was, none of us would be alive right now and it did, once upon a time. I would advise you to not ask him about it." Pyrrhus stated darkly, eyes narrowed. "He threw aside all of his and his clan's plans, not caring how carefully they were executed or thought out, all he wanted was to obliterate all traces of the event or anything remotely familiar of it before covering it in a layer of snow; all to satisfy his bloodlust."

Malfoy involuntarily shivered. He _knew_ Toushirou was _capable_ … but still… actually _do_ so…

"But it happened years ago. And your boytoy knows better now. Come on." Pyrrhus pushed him forward with a shove. "We have a Headmaster to talk to and we still have to find your arm-candy afterwards. We don't have all day."

Flicking out his forked tongue in a small hiss, the dragon climbed the stairs, the blonde hot in his heels, scowling. He really wasn't cut out for this shit. But he swore his loyalty, and that meant _something_ if he had anything to say about it. Entering with small grandiose, Pyrrhus scowled darker as he met the Headmaster's mysterious smile — his ire for wizards clear as Draco followed in, expression slightly displeased. If the old coot was expecting pleasant company, he was in for something on the other side of that rainbow.

"Mr. Pyrrhus and Mr. Malfoy, to what do I owe this visit?"

" _Hitsugaya_." Pyrrhus clicked his tongue, baring fanged teeth as he yawned. "Ordered me here to talk to you about a plan of his." You're not _that_ special, you decrepit old man.

"We discuss many plans, which of them were you referring to?"

Pyrrhus gave a fanged smirk. "The one where we try to _kill_ you, old man, remember that one?" Now, to the more _interesting_ aspect of his task. "Though, a pity it is only _attempts_ ; nothing permanent or even mildly scarring sadly."

The dragon sighed, like he was actually saddened by the lack of death and harm. Draco wouldn't have been surprised if he actually was while Dumbledore looked a bit wary, before regaining his smile. "I am aware of Mr. Hitsugaya's plans as of late, Pyrrhus. He has informed me of his intentions of the Dark Lord for now, though with your arrival… he did not."

The addressed male shrugged, seating himself at the railing, hooking a leg in between one of the bars. "He doesn't tell a lot of people a lot of things. You're no exception and neither am I. He tells you and I enough and what is needed on that; a need to know basis or not at all."

"Yes, a characteristic that is frustrating to his peers." Dumbledore smiled, winking at Draco, who scowled before the professor turned back to the older male with a small turn. "But it would be hard pressed to believe that Hitsugaya would send you here blindly, Pyrrhus."

"True." Pyrrhus conceded, before his visage turned serious. "Only both you and are wrong. He told me _nothing_ , only to get my ass here via his owl. And the fact that he told you and me nothing…"

"…speaks more than if he _did_." Dumbledore finished, both of them ignoring a scrutinizing Malfoy, as the atmosphere sobered.

Pyrrhus was not empathetic. "No shit. He's _serious_ , old man."

Not giving anyone the chance to cut in, the dragon chuckled into his hand. "I may not know why Hitsugaya called me here, Dumbledore. But you best be assured that my presence here is _not_ a good one. For _you_ or _His Royal Slither-ness_. I am a rogue warrior, the last of my kind, that I have little to lose other than my friend Hitsugaya. And if not for his request, you and the rest of the Wizarding World could have burned for all I cared."

Draco was unsurprised while the Headmaster took the words with quiet. It was no secret that Pyrrhus was less than fond of wizards, even Draco was treated in a relative distance for a while. But he did not make the mistake to think that the Pyrrhus was _sympathetic_ to his problems. Because Draco knew _hatred_ when he saw it.

"It could be argued that I hate wizards." Pyrrhus said bluntly, breathing in an ornate pipe from his suit pocket as incensed smoke blew from his nostrils. "But if Hitsugaya asked me, out of all persons, to come here; what do you think that says, Headmaster?"

Draco ran a hand through his hair. _Of course_ , he thought to himself with a curse, as the Headmaster voiced it.

"Hitsugaya is readying to make his final decision. To decide the fate of our futures."

* * *

Draco was wary, despite it would have been what the others would have thought as days of bliss with a new love and relationship to explore. But the blonde was _not_. In between the signs of physical attentions and affection, Toushirou was consistent — often reminding him that their relationship was secondary to his loyalties to his society and duties as a captain, and that in the end, if needed, Toushirou would not be hesitant to leave it all behind. Even driving Malfoy to hate him if need be. He was not surprised to be honest, as it would have been a selfless thing that the captain would do at the expense of himself. Though, he often ignored the reminder as much as possible.

Pushing aside his plate in a clear mood, the only free Malfoy ignored the concerned looks of his friends before heading to the Common Room, wanting a moment of silence after Pyrrhus had ran him out of the Headmaster's office. Toushirou was oddly absent without a single notification, but for the most part, was able to take care of himself.

 _After all of this…_ Malfoy pondered in the privacy of his mind. _Would we even be alive?_

The chances of that were slim to none if you had asked Draco a year ago, if one were to explain the neck-deep situation that they were in. But somehow, through Toushirou, he was alive, along with the rest of his family. So far. While his significant other was capable and more so, it was understandable for Malfoy to harbor doubt — even with Toushirou's plan unfurling with the slow replacement of Death Eaters with puppets, destruction of Horcruxes and not to mention, distraction of attempting murder on Dumbledore. It was all… so much that Malfoy feared that with one wrong move, it would all come _falling down_ in a dramatic swoop with Toushirou at the brunt of it.

"Draco?"

Taken from his thoughts at the familiar sound, Draco's eyes cleared to see Blaise before him, followed by Nott, who frowned at his distracted gait. "What are you doing here?"

"I… I was thinking." Draco admitted, his own voice sounding lame to him as he struggled with a better answer. "The acquaintance that you both saw this morning, he had left to find Toushirou a few hours ago and still hasn't notified me."

"Who is he anyway?" Blaise inquired as the boy leaned against the couch, as they sat comfortably around a coffee table, Nott taking to a seat beside Draco's armchair. "He looked older than us. A relative of Hitsugaya's?"

"You mean like his cousin?" Nott nodded, referring to their get-together over break.

"No." Malfoy shook his head. "He is a friend, a trusted ally who is also our senior. Hitsugaya trusts him enough to defend his home in Japan when he is away."

That alone cemented the trust for the Slytherins, as they were aware that the captain was paranoid enough to carry his belongings with him, nonetheless, leave his home to an individual.

"So, why is he here?" Nott inquired. "Not that he is unwelcome, but things are a bit tense right now."

"I think that is the exact reason why Toushirou has brought him here." Draco's glare darkened, honing on the green flames of the fireplace. "It is because we are nearing a turning point and he wishes to have all of his allies not only where _he_ can see them, but also more importantly, where his _enemies_ can see them."

"So, he's in the know?" Blaise stated more than questioned as Malfoy nodded.

"More likely even more than us." He admitted to the others' surprise as the blonde shrugged at their reaction. "Toushirou keeps more things from me than you would think. Most of the time, he makes or lets me draw conclusions for myself — half the time, he doesn't even bother to confirm or shoot it down. Or if he feels up to it, rarely sorts it out himself for me."

"Trouble in paradise?"

"More like discord." Nott supplied, frowning. "If this was how your dynamic was, then one could argue that it is not healthy. Your relationship, I mean. If you two don't communicate, misunderstandings and miscommunications are abound to occur. Like this issue, you don't even know where Toushirou is."

Draco scowled at the reminder but directed a small glare at Nott. "It is _not_ like that. It's just how we work. I know Toushirou has other commitments before me — as any self-respecting person should, only that _bastard_ does not have _any_ shred of self-perseveration — and I as well; besides, I don't need to know _everything_. I am _not_ his keeper and he is _not_ mine, I have my duties and needs that come before he does. And he knows that."

"So, you two do have an understanding for a lasting relationship." The glasses wearing boy smirked small before it dissolved. "But the matter of his location aside, do you even have any idea what he has planned now? Now that the events of winter break seem to be a success?"

"As far as the end of this month…" Malfoy trailed off, thoughts traveling to last night.

It was pitch black out when Draco felt the sheets shift on the shared bed as his grey eyes opened blearily to see a billowed curtain, slightly ajar to reveal a darkly garbed Hitsugaya — dressed in a uniform that he looked comfortable and very familiar in. It was a custom black robe under a white sleeveless one, that Draco knew to be his lover's official uniform that cloaked his position as a superior — it was symbol of pride as much as his family crest. Moving immediately, the blonde flung aside the curtains in a muted creak, now awake gazes meeting one another.

"Your awareness has improved."

Draco ignored the address. "Where are you going at this time of night? Do not tell me it is another one of your midnight swims?"

The personification of no self-preservation had the audacity to smirk, lightened with a hint of teasing. " _No_. But if you must know, I am going to a family meeting of sorts. One that does not allow the presence of outsiders of the clan. I will return in about an hour or so."

"At this time of night?" Malfoy questioned skeptically.

"It is morning in Japan, Draco. It is much more convenient to inconvenience one of us than to make the other twelve to be awakened in the dead of night. Not that the rest of us sleep much for that matter." Toushirou chuckled small before pushing the blonde lightly back on the bed. "Go to bed. I will be fine."

Malfoy was silent as Toushirou took it as his understanding until a whisper pierced the quiet. "Are you… _will you still be here?_ "

The footfalls of tabi stopped. A pause. "It depends. How long were you referring to?"

"Would it be childish for me to say forever?" His voice devolved into a soft tone, barely a whisper. But it rang so loudly, Draco could have sworn he shouted. "Would it be wishful thinking?"

With a half turn, Toushirou's white hair glowed in the moonlight as a single eye glowed in the natural light, cold. " _Yes_. It would be. However, I suppose I will divulge in your fantasy for a bit longer."

Instead of reassuring, Malfoy felt _cold_. The shared sheets of their bed, once warm no longer but as icy as his partner's element — Draco did not dare break the wall between them, he was frightened in what he would find behind it. _Was this what Toushirou meant by his secrets? Would he leave him so easily if he knew something more?_ Shaking himself, Malfoy gripped the sheets under his palms, straining the silk. _Fantasy? Did he mean that it would end? That there was going to be a time when he would have to awaken from it?_

He would rather remain in such a delusion than to wake.

The realization was calmer then he thought he would receive it — resigned and dependent upon his fate. Cold fingers took him from his thoughts, cupping his face as familiar lips pillowed his jawline, sending shivers down his back.

" _ **Way of Binding: No. 65: Forced Slumber.**_ " He felt breathed on his skin.

It was too late when Draco realized his lover's ploy, befalling into the demon magic.

The following morning, Malfoy awakened to cooling sheets, the tousled crinkles in the blankets and pillow indent evidence of his lover's promised return but instead of relief, the blonde felt a bead of wariness and suspicion. It was no dream of the night that Toushirou avoided answering his question — he knew it was childish, but… _was it so far-fetched?_ — and left after knocking him unconscious. Annoyed, Malfoy made his way to the showers to his morning routine, internally swearing to confront his best friend the moment they had the privacy. However, it was just his luck that Potter had the idea to speak to Toushirou that morning of all days and then with Pyrrhus' timely arrival; there was no moment to spare for him.

And it was not like he could blame Toushirou. He did not ask Potter to come to him. He did not ask to be involved in all of their Western drama and headache of Voldemort — but he was. Because of a stupid crystal ball and their poor excuse of a professor, honestly how she was qualified was a larger mystery to Draco than how Crabbe and Goyle had gotten so far in Hogwarts with their many detentions (Thank _god_ for Snape.).

"… Toushirou was tightlipped on that." Draco finally finished as he met Nott and Blaise, who were sporting a deadpan. " _What?_ "

"So, he didn't tell you?" Nott mused, cupping his chin in a tone of finality. " _What a shocker._ "

While the blonde glared at his least favored child, Blaise was more tactful. "But it is expected of him. Even though he does not keep us completely from the dark, Hitsugaya is not the sharing type, you just being a slightly more informed. Though, not by much." _Only by a fraction._

"Don't you two have _someone_ _else_ to annoy?" _And why was he the only one who had to deal with this?_

* * *

Holding the thin metal device, Toushirou rose an eyebrow at the simple instructions from the former captain of the Twelfth Division, flipping it through his fingers. " _ **Very well, I will do so. Thank you, Urahara. The samples will be delivered to you by Korihana, there are several blood samples that I omitted from Kurotsuchi's hands.**_ "

Ignoring the blonde's remark of being his favored uncle, the ice captain replaced the device in his pocket, before reappearing in the outskirts of the grounds alone. Shunpoing to be unseen and unfollowed, he seated himself on the edge of the roof of the many towers, overlooking the scenery for a moment. Then a shrill ring broke the still silence, as he answered with a click to his bluetooth.

"What is it?" A pause.

"When?" Another pause as he allowed the person on the other side to reply.

"Very well, send a message for Tia Harribel to stand by, I will make accommodations to assure that she will be informed as soon as it happens. And of your charge?"

The words were muffled in the mild wind as Toushirou smirked, his expression contemplative. " _Is that so?_ He would like to invite _me_ to such a momentous gathering?"

A moment of silence. "Inform him of my acceptance."

" _Acceptance?_ Acceptance to what?" Toushirou ignored the newly arrived Pyrrhus, who thankfully left Draco to deal with the other Slytherins after their meeting since Blaise and Nott were not sufficient in explaining why it was justified to set several Hufflepuffs aflame just because — their last excuse was to see if uselessness was combustible after bursting into the three's _very_ interesting conversation. Not that they knew he was eavesdropping. Therefore, he was able to use his own version of magic to appear, dangerously standing on the roof the transfer had taken perch to. Not that he would be in any real danger if he fell off or anything.

"An invitation to meet Voldemort." Toushirou replied nonchalantly as the dragon nodded before turning so quickly, he could have had whiplash if he were human, as the words sunk in.

" _You—?!_ _Why_ , in the name of dragon's bane, _would you do that?_ " The dragon huffed, regaining his footing. "Unless you're getting close to kill him? Take him out when you're extending a hand? I'm not one for underhanded tactics and all (seeing how I'm a _dragon_ ) but if you _kill_ him, _you kill him_ , boya."

Humming under his breath, the captain shook his head. "The choice may be mine to decide whom will die, Pyrrhus. But the one who will end the others' life will be one or the other — _not me_. I have no interest in being a glorified hero to these wizards."

Pyrrhus shrugged, not really caring about the lives of wizards. "I'm the last advocate for wizard lives. But even I know if you recklessly kill this guy, you'll have a mess in your hands. So, why you meeting him now, control freak? I thought you were leaving your creepy minion Death Eaters to your bidding. There's no need for you to meet him."

Toushirou was unamused by the nickname but said nothing. "They are stand-ins for temporary safety against the Dark Lord, as well as to satisfy the alliance between Draco and his friends. Once I am out of the picture, it will be Draco who will receive the credit for saving their parents — who had been conveniently altered in being unable to try to finish anymore of Voldemort's work when he passes. My meeting with him is a… _test of the waters_."

"And what exactly are you testing?" Pyrrhus narrowed his eyes as Toushirou shrugged lightly.

" _Who knows?_ It will be nothing more than a meeting, Pyrrhus. _A conversation._ "

" _Bullshit_. _Nothing_ is as simple as a conversation with you." The dragon growled, insulted that the captain assumed that he could be easily slighted. "You _always_ have a plan. So, what the _hell_ are you doing, now?"

With unabashed attitude, the transfer student made no indication to answer — _fine,_ then onto the more… _annoying_ _shit_ … "If you won't answer me _that_ , then answer me _this_. What are you planning to do with Draco? _After all of this?_ Don't think I didn't notice what you said."

Eyes expectant, Pyrrhus felt dread in his throat as he saw the boy he called master pause in his thoughts, eyes no longer far away but now very much _here_ with him — glowing with the determination that screamed his position in Soul Society. He was not talking to the Hogwarts student, prodigy of Slytherin, Hitsugaya Toushirou — _no_ , he was talking to the one who came here on a _mission_ , a _captain_ of the Gotei 13 — _that_ Hitsugaya Toushirou. Lips pursed, the captain held up a hand as the sunset rays warmed them, his ring glinting in the light. "You are foolish if you believe that I was going to survive this confrontation in the eyes of the wizards, Pyrrhus. Whether it be the curse of the Horcrux on Tom Marvolo's ring or Voldemort, I will not return to Hogwarts after this year. All of the information needed of the wizards had been collected, and I am not alive; I do not belong here. I am needed at Soul Society. It comes before Draco and I."

"So, after all, _this_ …" The dragon waved a hand to the school, surprised at the lack of care in the captain's words. "You're just going to _leave?_ " Leave Draco? You are literally _almost_ everything to that kid.

Toushirou smiled coldly. " _What did you expect?_ You _knew_ in the beginning when I let the curse grow on my gigai. You _knew_ when I told you about my wand and my position. Did you believe words to be lying when I said that I was not allied with anyone _but_ Soul Society? My loyally is first and for most, to my home."

Pyrrhus felt himself stunned, a loss of words at the child — no, _Master_ before him.

"…Then, what of Draco?"

Toushirou smiled softly — was it _wistful_ …? — as he slipped off the ring — a gift from the boy who they spoke of, a simple silver band with a row of small emeralds for Valentine's — before setting it aside like it had no sentimental value. "He would have to cope, in his own way… now _wouldn't_ he?"

The dragon was silent as he heard the boy before him sigh, a hand running through his white hair, eyes twinkling with dark mirth like a chess master who was amused at the emotions of his pieces. "It will not be the first for him, after all."

"But enough of Draco, it is time that you learned why I asked for you to be here." The captain waved aside as he cupped a hand over his lips, hovering over the elder male's ear as the sinful lips whispered softly. Lost into the wind, Pyrrhus flinched away from the captain when he finished, red eyes wide.

Not only was his master a cold-hearted bastard, he was starkly _mad_.


	11. Bleed in Crimson Rivers

Chapter 11: Bleed in Crimson Rivers

Toushirou looked up from his approach, eyes previously on an array of papers outspread on a table in the library. Apparently, the captain had secluded himself here, with several texts aside and stacked on the brown tabletop he claimed for his own, ink pot opened for some time with his quill in hand as he had paused mid scrawl to look up at Malfoy. Draco didn't know what those teal eyes were looking for on his face, but whatever it was, Toushirou found it.

"Draco, you have found me." _How many times do I have left to find you?_

The younger squared his stance before seating himself across the captain, shivering at the soft whisper of his name. "Yes, and you have been elusive, Toushirou. Are you unharmed from your activities?" _Lie to me, if that's what keeps you by my side._

Toushirou rose a brow. "You will not ask what you are curious of?" _If you are as quick to pick up things as I know, then you would have reached the conclusion I would have predicted by now. Of my planned demise._

Malfoy gave him a bitter smile like he held all the power to kill his greatest enemy but realized that he was unable to carry it out, confirming his thoughts. "If I ask of you, you will tell me what I do not want to hear. I do not want to hear whether or not you will live. Or if you will leave me. _I do not want to hear it_. Only what you said last night. That you will continue my fantasy for me. You **will** indulge me." _For my own and your sake. You_ _ **promised**_ _._

Toushirou was silent as his quill remained unmoved. _I promised._

"I am unharmed." He said after a silence. "I will be meeting with the Dark Lord."

Concern flashed in grey eyes before a flat voice somehow escaped Malfoy's lips, dry. "Where? When?"

"I do not know, but _soon_. I will be… _unavailable_ for a few days." Toushirou replied just as flat, eyes hidden. His quill was moving once again. _Did he not feel anything? No._ Malfoy argued with himself. _He felt_ _ **too**_ _much. That was why…_ Feeling like the room was suddenly suffocatingly hard to breath in, the blonde rose out of his chair so quickly he almost tripped on the wooden legs. Catching himself before he could meet the ground on the back of another chair, Draco gripped the wood with a bone-white grip as his body registered the firm and strong arms around his torso, having caught him before he could do so himself. They loosened, as if they suddenly remembered that they shouldn't have helped. Feeling the urge to cry surge in his throat, Draco swallowed it away as he felt his eyes well up against his will, biting his lip so hard he tasted iron. " _Come back to me safely._ "

The same lips of last night ghosted over his ear. "I will." _**Lie to me. Indulge in my fantasy.**_ _Ask, and you shall have, Draco._

Gasping airily, Draco broke out of the embrace, his body and mind one in telling him to get away. Away from the subject of his _pain_. Leaving behind a contemplative Toushirou, with a single tear down his visage, teal eye troubled as his mouth was half-open with something to say. Only he could not say what, words failing him, as empty as his arms.

* * *

Harry gripped the Marauder's Map with a sense of frustration, not finding the name he wanted to see in the flowing script — instead, seven other names gleamed with one sorely missing. The official excuse was that Hitsugaya was preoccupied with a family emergency and was sent home in Japan for a few days but the troubled Slytherins suggested something else. Hermione was suspicious just as he was, only in the oddity, not that Dumbledore has allowed Hitsugaya to leave like Ron suggested, but that the transfer had dropped _everything_ and left. Though, Harry did not find it too out of place since Hitsugaya did proclaim that his loyalty was only to his home and that alone, so if a family emergency occurred that dire enough to recall him — then did it not make _sense_ for him to leave?

Hermione shook her head. "When all of this is going on in Hogwarts? That man, Pyrrhus said it himself. If Hitsugaya was nearing a decision, then why leave?"

"The calm before the storm?" Ron yawned, internally lamenting why they discussed so late into the night. He needed sleep, _dammit_.

"No." The girl rejected flatly. "There _must_ be more to it…"

"Malfoy would know." Harry suggested, none too subtly. "How do we know if he didn't _off_ him—"

The stern glare from Hermione cut him off, done with his 'baseless' accusations. Hitsugaya may have been a loose cannon, but at the least, Harry knew that he had the best interests of the many at heart. He saved him multiple times and had told Voldemort that he was to await his decision. But _Malfoy_ … the odd behavior and the off way he and friends clung to Toushirou… Harry feared that the decision would not entirely be the transfer's in the end.

However, all of that was out of mind the next morning, two days after Hitsugaya's abrupt departure, fourteen high security prisoners of Azkaban escaped their prison with the according to the Daily Prophet. The cells were said to have been found empty without a single trace of how they escaped — only with the scraped words on Antonin Dolohov's cell that the Dark Lord had returned. And now armed with more of his Death Eaters.

And among them was Lucius Malfoy.

The shock on the Death Eater's son was too _real_ to be false (according to _Hermione_ ), as the newspaper was dropped off during dinner — informing professors and students at the same time — but one detail concerned the Boy Who Lived. Pointed out by Hermione, the Potions Master was absent at dinner, having been sent away by the Headmaster presumably.

Throwing at the map aside in a fit of frustration, Harry ran a hand through his hair, breathing harsh and quick. "What the _hell_ is going on?" _Katie's necklace, Draco Malfoy and his group, the 'secret weapon', Ron with the poisoned wine, Horcruxes and now, Hitsugaya Toushirou's absence — what was all of this leading to? And what did it all mean?_

Later that day, after trying to configure the account from Katie Bell unsuccessfully, Harry narrowed his green eyes after a flustered Malfoy, straight to the boys' bathroom.

" _I know what you did, Malfoy!_ " He shot at his rival, seeing the tears and the utter despair in the blonde's shaking form. Only to quickly contort to a frown and shock, wiping aside his tears as he turned. "You _Hexed_ her, didn't you?"

Annoyance or was it fury? Neither way, the blonde teen growled lowly before shooting a Jinx at him, to which Harry swiftly ducked aside. "What in _blazes_ are you spouting about now, Potter?!"

In place of a reply, Harry Hexed him back. But Draco was his rival for a reason. Dodging just as agilely as the bespectacled teen, Harry only succeeded in making the sink pipes to burst and mirrors crack. "Tell me why you _Hexed_ Katie!"

Hiding in opposing ends of the bathrooms behind the pillars to conceal, Draco huffed out a breath of incredulous air as the sound of spraying water echoed in the room, flooding the floors — shooting another Hex. _Damn_. He _missed_. " _Surely_ , you do not think that I was the one who put Bell in the St. Mungo's? Do not be _daft!_ " _Toushirou told me that Potter may react impulsively at me in suspicion, but now of all times…!_

"Then _why_ did you fire a Hex at me?" Harry demanded. Grey eyes narrowed before glancing at his feet. Below. Shooting another Jinx, the blonde caught Harry off-guard as he knelt to do as Malfoy predicted him to — making him turn away to give him enough time to get out of this bathroom. _Of course, Potter had to walk in when he was having an internal spinel of how his lover had_ _ **not**_ _contacted him, especially with the revelation of his freed father! Damn this…_ _ **annoyance**_ _! And did he not hear of a fight-or-flight response?! He had other things to be concerned over than to entertain the obliviousness of the last Potter._

With the words of the Knockback Jinx in his mind, Draco was startled to hear a shout from behind. Potter recovered faster than he calculated. _Shit_.

" _ **Sectumsempra**_!"

Draco fell back, too stunned to feel the cold water soaking his back, platinum blonde bangs over his face as he stared wide-eyed at the rapidly bleeding Pyrrhus over him. Blood covered him like he was sliced open, tendrils of crimson soaking him and the floor — _move!_ Move, _Draco!_ Do _something!_ Toushirou's voice screamed in his mind — but he couldn't, eyes fixed on the blood. There was so much _blood_. Red and bleeding everywhere. A choking gasp broke the hypnosis. _Potter_.

Cold fingers gripped his wand in one hand, the other stemming the worst of the bleeding. Steely grey eyes glared into the soul of those emerald ones — so _naive_ , so _lucky_ and with so much _chance_. The curse came easily. " _ **Crucio**_."

* * *

The Slytherin locket glittered under his shirt as he shifted his gaze from person to person present at the meeting, dismissing the conversations of the day before. If Malfoy believed himself to be subtle, Toushirou would've had to have been stupid as the blonde would have the ' _need_ ' to exit the room the moment Toushirou was within the vicinity of his person. Parkinson and Bulstrode were the ones who were particularly affected, eyes conveying their emotional bemoans while the boys tried to keep them at bay and allow their parents to absolve the situation themselves. Nott and Blaise in particular, confronted him after Draco ran off, guns blazing and ready for confrontation — only to dismissed. It was none of their business, it was only his and Draco's.

Hitsugaya felt a headache growing at his temples. His rational mind screamed how it was a detrimental part of his plan — the repercussions if he allowed himself to ' _live_ ' and be as Draco had dared to hope would destroy it. His newly acquainted emotions seeped dangerously at the edge of his mask, awaiting for the moment it broke before Draco. But Toushirou was steadfast.

 _He was a dead soul and Draco was alive._ He reasoned and thought to himself, rationalizing in the icy tundra as Hyorinmaru and Sephiroth listened, silent but comforting in their presence alone. _He was not arrogant enough to choose for him. Whether Draco lived or died, it was_ _ **his**_ _choice. Not Toushirou's and certainly not anyone else's. Not to mention his blatant lie to the blonde of his whereabouts_ _ **that**_ _night…_

A small voice echoed his darkest considerations, from making Draco forget of him entirely to questioning himself of why he allowed Draco in when they were not meant to be in the end. _Merciful gods, when did he become such a dramatic?_

Shaking aside the thoughts, his gaze rested on the last guest. Severus Snape.

All guests were present. The dining room was cleared and bare as silver candelabras adorned the table, illuminating the faces of Death Eaters, previously imprisoned and haggard from their served time. Recently freed by yours truly from Azkaban, strangely enough, the Daily Prophet was rather slow in the uptaking. Movement caused the teal eyes to flicker to it instinctively at the head of the table, was a pale man. He was a shadow of the once handsome Tom Riddle, now bald and serpentine features as those toxic green eyes leered over his subjects in mock caring, suave and charismatic in his aura. He was a leader for a reason, captivating to not only the eye once upon a time but also in demeanor and the way he spoke. A large serpent curled over his black robed form, flicking her tongue every once in a while, yellow slitted eyes conveying the higher intellect than a mindless animal. Toushirou felt indifferent. In comparison to Aizen, Voldemort was nothing more than a pig for slaughter.

Briefly, he considered hacking off his head with his Horcrux-blessed pet. It was more than he deserved to be sent to Hell with his companion.

It was easy, quick and… _anti-climatic._ Not to mention the headache with Potter and Draco if _he_ was the one to kill him. _How annoying._

"…now if our honored guest would be so kind to reveal himself." At the soft voice, Toushirou merely curled deeper into the shadows, teal eyes veiled for a moment.

Voldemort was cautious and paranoid, as he scanned the room, unaware of his hidden guest's location, hence his invitation. His contact had given him new toys that were as obedient as any would be under the Imperius Curse but had not visited him since — that would mean that he was either trying to cover up his tracks or cutting him off. Either way, he still had the gifts from the pink-haired Arrancar. The lord intended to use them — along with their guest.

"You are _not_ my master. Nor do I hold any loyalties to you, _half-breed._ " A cold voice replied, as they all looked up to see a white-haired captain standing over them, shined shoes on the tabletop and teal eyes leering. So, this was the boy that the prophecy foretold to decide. He was _young_ , even younger than Harry — as if his hair was not enough to display his exotic features, he possessed pale skin and luminescent green-blue eyes that seemed to be older than Dumbledore's. " _Though_ … I am willing to hear you out."

With a gesture, the Dark Lord smiled with cruel intent. " _Please_ , if you would, young Hitsugaya."

There was a terse silence, none moving before the child turned without a sound, seating himself across the table at the other head. " _Now, then_. With all of our guests present, I declare this meeting to _begin_. Some of you have been absent due to your own _incompetence_ in events of a year ago, and for that, you have been punished. I presume, there are no… _protests?_ "

Naturally, there was none but voiced agreement.

"Severus, I presume you bring news?"

"Yes, my lord." Snape replied, dead voice unchanged from lectures. "The boy is still well protected by Dumbledore, who has been avoiding the efforts of the young Malfoy and his posse. He will not be vulnerable until the day the Headmaster is taken out of the equation."

"And how do you suppose we do so, Severus?" Dolohov hissed from Toushirou's right. "Hogwarts is well protected. And it is not as if we can waltz in and out like you! That Malfoy boy is not even doing his tasks neither!"

"This is the result if we are to recruit children!" Another snarled. Rookwood. " _Useless!_ "

"Unlike the two of you, who were so successful." Toushirou drawled, drawing every eye to his bored form, face rested on a fist and half-lidded eyes in complete arrogance as he sneered. "Being locked up in Azkaban for a year, awaiting for _another_ child to free you. Yes, the _epitome_ of usefulness, indeed."

Those from Azkaban flushed and hid their heads in shame, anger pulsing from their forms as Rookwood and Dolohov opened their mouths to protest when their lord laughed, silencing them. They were too afraid to distract their master from his amusement. "Then what say you, Hitsugaya? What would you have us do, in these times?"

The ice captain was silent for a moment. "Lost, Riddle?"

Bellatrix snarled, ready to protest the casual address of her lord. Only to be silenced by a wandless spell from the child, subdued as her face kissed the wood, unconscious. The captain continued as if uninterrupted. "Your move to eliminate Albus Dumbledore is a _fruitful_ one. One of the greatest wizards, his death would have more repercussions than Harry Potter's, it could be argued. The impact on the Order's morale and not to mention, the boy himself, you have them reeling before you. Even in your use of children, none suspect that a student has the _capability_ to kill. However, you _overestimate_ the mental turmoil to kill."

"Is that not the incompetence of the child?" Rowle hissed, from beside Bellatrix.

"Is that not the incompetence of the adult?" Toushirou shot back, eyes narrowed. "Do not implicate your burdens onto your children. They are the not the same as you and I, whose hands who have already been colored in blood."

"Then why did you not kill him?!" Dolohov snapped. "If you were capable, then why does he live?!"

"I am no more than a potential ally." Toushirou shrugged, eyes aloof at the shouting Death Eater. "My messenger was to make that perfectly clear."

"Yes, yes." Voldemort nodded, as shocked eyes landed on the captain. " _You_ , the transfer student from the East, shall be the one who decides at the most crucial moment. Forgive me for not making the same clear for my subordinates. But you see, it is unfortunate that you out of all are the one to make this decision. It makes the Ministry and I, concerned of _where_ you ally yourself."

"And what do you propose to change this?"

The Dark Lord smiled wider. "Have you heard the name, Szayelaporro Granz?"

Toushirou narrowed his eyes as the smile grew wider, only to finally sense the hollow reiatsu at his feet, curling at the limbs until it bit into his ankle — filling his blood with venom. " _Not that it matters."_

 _How dare this…!_ Shunpoing, Toushirou reappeared behind the Dark Lord, too fast for any of the wizards to see, gripping his bleeding side. _So, that's where Tia Harribel's Fraccion went. I_ _ **need**_ _to get out of here._ But before he could, Toushirou cursed internally as his consciousness subsided, his body feeling too hot, his ankle in white-hot fire as a single thought posed in his mind, world fading into black. _He had broken Draco's promise._

* * *

Matsumoto froze, her hand automatically coming to her zanpakuto before she composed herself. Her captain told her that there was a possibility of this occurring. _Calm._ Shunpoing to their shared office after excusing herself with as much inconspicuousness as possible, the short-haired lieutenant yanked open her superior's desk drawer to reveal a series of packages, marked with colored indicators (jeez, how many back-up plans and contingencies did her captain have? — forget it, it's probably better if I didn't know) after scanning the division for any stray members that would interrupt. Assured that she was alone, the lieutenant ignored all but the green one, tearing it open before locking the drawer with a Kido seal; scanning the contents with a growing dark frown. An hour later, clipping the ice pin in her hair and the bluetooth to her ear, she spoke firmly and clearly as she flash-stepped through Seireitei. " _ **This is Matsumoto-fukutaicho of the Tenth Division. Requesting access to the Senkaimon in London, Britain; authorization pending. Request for all Seats as accompany.**_ "

" _ **Request received, Matsumoto-fukutaicho; authorization is required.**_ " The automated voice shot back at her as she muttered a reply through painted lips.

" _ **I know, damn you.**_ "

Succinctly snapping at the guard to let her in at the First Division, the lieutenant bowed at the presence of the Head Captain. " _ **Matsumoto-fukutaicho.**_ "

" _ **Forgive my abrupt interruption, sir.**_ " She began, before she followed in her report. " _ **As of seventy-two hours ago, I have lost contact with Hitsugaya-taicho. Through the Two-Way Mirror, he has provided me, he was last conscious during a meeting with Tom Marvolo Riddle and his Death Eaters. Szayelaporro Granz has been revealed to be their Hollow contact, and who has enslaved Tia Harribel's Fraccion. It appears that he intends to do the same with Hitsugaya-taicho.**_ "

" _ **And how do you know of this, Matsumoto-fukutaicho?**_ "

The strawberry blonde held out the package. Opening it, revealed a set of parchment that wrote itself, a series of reports that were magicked to record the events that the mirror overheard. " _ **Hitsugaya-taicho had placed a complicated spell on this package. To not activate until he was unconscious for more than seventy-two hours, he linked the Taboo of my mirror, which he gifted me a year ago. Once activated, the events of which are transcribed in the parchment will be transferred to me through his magic.**_ " Making none, but his direct subordinate, the most informed agent.

"… _ **Very well. You, Matsumoto-fukutaicho, bar anyone else above your rank, will have full authority in the venture to the Wizarding World. Inform Tia Harribel to accompany you as well — her Fraccion is her responsibility, not ours.**_ "

" _ **Yes, sir. If I can request companies outside of my own, sir?**_ "

" _ **Who did you have in mind, Matsumoto-fukutaicho?**_ "

The silvery-blue eyes of the lieutenant glowed darkly as she said her choices, under the Head Captain's half-opened gaze. She was without her captain for long _enough_. And if these wizards believed that they had a chance in keeping him, they had _another_ thing coming.


End file.
